Therapy
by hippiechic
Summary: The Zfighters are having nervous breakdowns, and who better to call when in emotional distress than me? Featuring Gohan, Bulma and Vegeta, Piccolo, Krillin, Puar, Master Roshi, Videl, Mirai (Future) Trunks, Hercule, Bulma and Goku, Radditz, Launch AND FRIEZA!
1. Son Gohan

Disclaimer: I didn't own DBZ on my other story and I don't on this one either.  
  
A/N: Well, this is a retard story. I was sitting at my kid bro's NJHS thingy and wrote this. I hope you like.  
  
*******  
  
This all started a few weeks ago after a large fight with a creature named Cell. After Cell's defeat, I received a call from a Mrs. Chi-Chi asking me to talk with her son, who to say the least was traumatized.  
  
Since I am not a doctor and the Patients' Rights Bill has no effect whatsoever on me, here is an account of little Son Gohan's first session with me.  
  
*******  
  
The time, 2 p.m. and I was on the phone talking to Tenchi. The poor guy was terribly upset. Ryoko and Ayeka were ruining his life. Again. (Needless to say, he's one of my patients, but that's another story.)  
  
I was trying to explain that a double homicide wouldn't help his situation at all when I heard a knock at my door. I quickly ended my conversation with Tenchi, telling him to get his own fanfic, and then I told whoever was at the door to enter.  
  
I was surprised to see a small, nerdy little boy accompanied by his mother. Being my normal, forgetful self, I had completely forgotten about my 2 o' clock.  
  
"Hi there. You must be Chi-Chi and that cutie pie beside you must be Gohan," I said rising to greet them.  
  
"Sorry we were late. I had a little trouble finding your place," Chi-Chi quickly apologized.  
  
"Hey, no big deal," I answered. "If I didn't live here, I wouldn't be able to find it either! It truly is in the middle of nowhere."  
  
We stood laughing at the joke for a moment before I explained what would be happening. "Mrs. Chi-Chi, I'm afraid your time has started and I only scheduled you for an hour, so I guess you'd best run along. There's food in the fridge and my mom's a great conversationalist. Gohan and I have a lot of talking to do."  
  
"Well okay," she replied prying Gohan off her leg. The child seemed overly anxious about his mother's departure. I would have to find out why.  
  
Finally, Chi-Chi was able to get away from Gohan and as she slipped out the door she told him to behave, mind his manners, yada, yada, yada.  
  
When she closed the door, the child slowly turned toward me with misery in his eyes. I hurried past him to a chair by my door, which I normally keep covered with clean clothes. That day was no different, so I threw the pile of clean laundry on my bed, moved the chair closer to my bed, and motioned for him to sit down.  
  
Gohan obliged me and I sat on my bed in front of him.  
  
"Well, Gohan, your mother told me things haven't been so good lately." His only response was a blank stare.  
  
"Could you maybe tell me what it's like at home?" Once again I received that blank look.  
  
"How about your family. What are they like?" This time I got a different response as dark clouds rolled across his sad eyes. I had hit a nerve. Time to drive it home, so to speak.  
  
"Your mom seems really nice. What do you think, Gohan?" This time he shrugged. Okay, it was time to ask about his father. I mean, if a kid's having family problems and it's not an over protective and controlling mother (I hit the nail on the head, I know.) then it must be his father, right?  
  
"Well, what about your Dad? What's he like?" At that Gohan glared at me and replied through gritted teeth, "Dead."  
  
"Oh," I replied not exactly knowing where to go with this next. I'm not a trained specialist or anything, so I decided to let my curiosity run free for the time being.  
  
"How did it happen?"  
  
"I did it," Gohan replied with the dark clouds in his eyes threatening to rain.  
  
"What do you mean by 'I did it'?"  
  
"I did it," was the only verbal response I could get from him, but I saw her was getting close to breaking, so I tried again.  
  
"Do you believe you killed him?" I asked. This time Gohan glared straight at me and yelled, "That's what I (censored) said!" before he broke-down crying.  
  
What to do…What to do. I'm not trained to handle this! AHH!!! Deep breath. Okay, much better. I just had a flashback to that day. Sorry.  
  
Oh, that's right, I next asked the small Saiyan, "How did you do it?"  
  
"I wasn't there," he replied. He had gotten his composure back and wasn't about to let any emotion creep back in.  
  
"Let's look at what you've just told me. You killed you father, but you weren't there…Hmm. It seems like you didn't have anything to do with his death at all," I deduced for him. Actually, I was so happy I had made the connection that I just had to share it. Like the time I…Oh, yeah, the story. Sorry. Again.  
  
"I didn't kill Cell."  
  
Yes! We were getting somewhere now! "Your mother mentioned someone named Cell. What's that all about?"  
  
"He was bad."  
  
"C'mon. I can't help you at all if you won't talk to me. Now, why was Cell bad?"  
  
Looking at his feet Gohan answered, "Because he wanted to take over Earth and destroy everything." He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly and looked me directly in the eyes. "Happy now?"  
  
The look he was giving me sent shivers down my spine. "Well, you're getting better. Hmm…Tell me, in your own words, (Like he was going to steal some or something.) how not killing Cell caused you to kill your father."  
  
"Cell killed everyone and I got mad. I hurt so bad. Especially after he killed Piccolo. Piccolo became like a father to me after he killed my dad and uncle. (Man, when he puts it that way his life's pretty (censored) up! It sounds even worse than mine! I'm really surprised he hadn't been to see me earlier.) I was so angry I became a Super Saiyan and beat him to the point that he went into self-destruction mode. He would have blown our planet apart if dad hadn't," his voice cracked, "used his IT to get Cell out of here. That's what happened to Dad."  
  
By this time Gohan had tears running down his cheeks and his time was over. I knew I had best wrap this up quickly. I had to get my nap in before my brother's baseball game. (You see what my priorities are.)  
  
"Gohan, you didn't kill your dad," I told him. Then I hugged him as reassurance. "Your dad did a noble thing and he knew exactly what he was doing."  
  
I let him sit back in his chair and lifted his chin with one hand, so he was looking me in the eyes.  
  
"Your dad sacrificed himself so you could live. Now you have to honor his decision. Stop blaming yourself and start living like your father intended. It was Cell's fault, not yours. You told me so yourself during the course of our hour together."  
  
He gave a small grin, "Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
He stood up, "I feel better now. I still miss Dad, though."  
  
"You always will, but he'll always love you."  
  
At that moment I heard a knock and Chi-Chi came in and asked, "Are you two still busy?"  
  
"No, not really. I think Gohan and I had a very useful session. Now Gohan, remember what I told you, and if you need me, you can always call. Okay?"  
  
"Sure." He grabbed Chi-Chi's hand.  
  
"I can't thank you enough," Chi-Chi said.  
  
"Oh, yes you can," I answered. "Get out of here and let me get my nap."  
  
With that Chi-Chi and Gohan left. I knew I'd be hearing from them again. That kid is really disturbed! Maybe next time though, he won't give me death glares the entire time. Well, that's Gohan's first visit, so you've now reached, THE END.  
  
A/N: Like I said, I know this is silly. I was thinking about eventually writing about the other characters. If you want me to you'd better R&R or I won't. 


	2. Vegeta and Bulma Brief

Disclaimer: Well, I'm too young and too broke to purchase lottery tickets, so there's not way I could have enough money to own DBZ, or YuYu Hakusho either for that matter. I also don't own Nintendo or any of its game titles, the holiday of Halloween, Aleve, or MTV or any of their shows or television personalities including musical artists. Oh, I forgot to mention, I don't own Disney or any of their characters.I just named my tiger after Disney's because it was my favorite movie at the time. (Is this the longest disclaimer in history or what?)  
  
A/N: Originally I had planned to make my second chapter about Piccolo since I have an idea of where I want it to go, but since I got reviews asking for a Vegeta chapter, Piccolo will have to wait. Thank you to my reviewers, you all know I love ya. Oh, if you ever need therapy...Well, you probably won't call me!  
  
*******  
  
Okay kiddies, I was cleaning my room the other day and I found some interesting stuff. I mean, I found some poetry I had written and then lost (These are featured in two of my works, Mother Nature and Musings. Hint, hint, hint.), two pairs of earrings, candy from Halloween two years ago (I gave it to my brothers!), Tetris, and a notebook full of writing.  
  
When I opened the notebook, I found it was filled with notes on the sessions I had held with a particularly difficult patient.  
  
As I read the notes and recalled those sessions, I realized there are probably people in this world demented enough to call things like this entertainment, so I think I'll share a session from the first notebook, of many, I found.  
  
*******  
  
Let's see, I was on the phone with Teasha, my therapist, that day. We had started out talking about a fight I had started with a jock from my school, but as always, the subject had worked its way to anime.  
  
"I'm glad you like that movie, but I must have it back, now!" Teasha was getting desperate.  
  
"Why? I love it and you've been taping the episodes off the TV, so you have a lot to watch anyway. Why must you take away the love of my life?!?" I was almost to tears thinking about the sacrifice I was going to hate making in order to save our friendship. It's a well-known rule that if you borrow something from a friend, you must promptly return it when they ask for it, or they have to right to NEVER let you borrow anything again!  
  
"Kurama isn't the love of your life! He's mine! You're obsessed with those two Saiyans, remember?!?"  
  
"Oh yeah, now I remember. Ah, Goku and Vegeta..." At this point in time, Gohan was a kid and Trunks was even younger, but I did remember meeting the Mirai version...  
  
Unfortunately I was brought back to reality by Teasha's wining, "So give it back!"  
  
I was just about to tell her where she and her anime fanaticism could go and what they could do while there, when I heard a car door slam outside my window. (My room is right next to the driveway.) It was followed by another door, and a high-pitched voice yelling, "You can't get away from me that easily!"  
  
"Teasha, I'll bring the Kami forsaken tape to you tomorrow. I have company," I told her right before hanging up.  
  
As I quickly changed from my pjs into some real clothes, I heard footsteps coming down the hall and that high-pitched voice still squawking, griping, and nagging. I was zipping my jeans and looking around for my brush when the door to my room flew open and in stepped two of my patients, Bulma and Vegeta.  
  
"Woman, will you tell my woman to stop shouting and just shut up?!?" Vegeta says as soon as the door is open.  
  
"For the last time, my name is Bulma, not WOMAN!!!" Bulma roars, following Vegeta into the room. They both stand there looking at me wearing a holey t- shirt, some stained Mudd jeans, and putting my hair up with a claw since I obviously didn't have time to brush it.  
  
"Okay, first of all, I'm not a marriage counselor and my name is Margaret, I refuse to answer to Woman. You can call me hippiechick, Mar, or Miss Vaughan, but NEVER Woman. Secondly, I'm not here to tell people what to do, I just make suggestions. My patients follow my suggestions at their own discretion."  
  
I turned to look at Bulma. "And you know good and well that I don't take walk-ins. I have a life you know. This counseling thing is just a hobby and I arrange my appointments around my schedule, so NO walk-ins. Call first."  
  
"Look, I'm sorry, but we really need you and there wasn't enough time to call first. Please help!" Bulma pleaded. She was very upset, poor thing.  
  
I looked them both in the eyes and finally conceded. "It's Friday and I don't have anything planned, so I guess I could spare the time and try to help ya'll."  
  
Bulma looked at me with grateful eyes and then looked hopefully at Vegeta who was still staring, well glaring actually, straight ahead.  
  
"I didn't want to come here to begin with. The Woman," Vegeta started before I cut him off by clearing my throat in warning, "I mean, Bulma, made me. She said we needed help since all we do it fight. I told her fighting was in a Saiyan's blood and then she went off."  
  
"I did not!" Bulma cut him off.  
  
"You most certainly did," he retorted.  
  
They were off and I was getting a migraine. I let them argue for a minute, hoping I might get an idea on how to help them. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind, not that that is very unusual. Finally I had taken all I could of their yelling.  
  
"SHUT THE *CENSORED* UP!!!!!!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs to be heard over their squabbling.  
  
They both stopped yelling and turned to stare at me. Bulma's face was a mask of shock while Vegeta's was one of both anger and relief. I decided to continue with, "Okay, now that I have your attention, I'll tell you what your problem is, each other."  
  
"You brought me all the way here for this genius to tell me something that I already knew?!?" Vegeta started in.  
  
"If you would shut up, I would explain exactly what I meant by that," I answered angrily. Vegeta seemed to give in and listened to my explanation. "Both of you like to argue and neither of you will listen to the other. Nor will you ever give in."  
  
"I don't like to argue!" Bulma exclaimed before catching exactly what she had said. "Oh, I think I see what you mean."  
  
"Good, I'm glad. Both of you need to sit down and tell the other exactly what you think and how you feel about each other." It was my new idea and boy did I hope it worked!  
  
"I'll start. Vegeta, you are a kind and sensitive man, but you don't want anyone to know because you are afraid they will think you are weak for having those emotions. At times, your stubbornness and ego really get to me, but I feel you are not only a patient, but a friend, so I put up with your moodiness.  
  
"Bulma, you are also kind and sensitive, but you are very controlling and your nagging drives even me insane at times. The two of you have many things in common and if you learn to compromise, I think that both of you will be very happy. Now, you will sit here on my bed and talk while I go get a coke. Oh, and by the way, you are not allowed to do anything but talk. No arguing, yelling, or cursing. Oh, and I just changed my sheets so if you do ANYTHING to mess them up, and I think you know exactly what act I am referring too, both of you will die horribly excruciatingly painful deaths. Wait until you are home to do that. Bye."  
  
I then left them alone in the hopes of them resolving their differences and reaching some form of reconciliation while I went to the kitchen. I got a coke and a bowl of sliced bell peppers out of the fridge, and some Aleve from the medicine cabinet, then sat down on the couch and turned on the TV to watch TRL.  
  
It just wasn't my day. Teasha was demanding her tape back, I had uninvited guests show up for an unscheduled session, they had given me a migraine, and to top it all off, *N SYNC, or as I like to call them, *N STINK, beat Linkin Park on the countdown.  
  
I was just starting to enjoy my pity party when I heard raised voices coming from my room. Those two just can't get along! Maybe I should suggest seperation. You know, absence makes the heart grow fonder, or in the case of my ex?-boyfriend, more and more pissed-off.  
  
Okay, I decided I had to go see what was going on just in case they got violent and Vegeta blew up my room. That would mean all my tapes of anime and The Mighty Ducks, and Rajah, my favorite stuffed animal, all gone! NO!!!!  
  
I rushed to my room and threw open the door. I was immediately surprised to find Vegeta and Bulma facing each other holding hands and Bulma was talking excitedly.  
  
"Oh, hi," Bulma said to me after being interrupted.  
  
"I see you two are getting along quite well now. What happened while I was gone?" I had to know. When I had left, they were on the verge of killing each other, but now they were getting along well, too well for my tastes.  
  
"The Woman, Bulma and I talked, baka," Vegeta explained.  
  
"Well duh. That's what you were supposed to do. I need a little more detailed information than that. I am your counselor after all," I retorted. (Retorted, that's my word for the day. It's a really great word, so why don't you all give it a try and use it at least once today?)  
  
"Well, Vegeta and I talked like you wanted us to, and he told me *censored because Vegeta threatened to kill me if I told anyone*. I'm so happy! I think everything is going to be just fine now. Thank you for helping us. If it hadn't been for you, we'd still be yelling at each other instead of getting along!" Bulma was gushing. Her eyes were bright and I thought she was about to either cry or burst with joy.  
  
"I'm glad I could help you, but you did all the work. You really didn't need my help at all. Just keep talking to each other and don't start all the normal bull again and hopefully I won't have to see you as patients again." I was so glad they were about to leave. I really needed to work on the romance story I had promised Teahsa and I wanted to see the video at least one more time before returning it.  
  
"We'll be leaving now since we are no longer in any need of your assistance," Vegeta said rising and offering his arm to Bulma, who surprisingly accepted. They were acting very lovingly toward each other and it had me worried.  
  
"Goodbye, hippiechick, and thanks again. Oh, I did want to ask how your sessions with Chi-Chi were going. They seem to be working because she isn't acting like such a big control freak anymore." Bulma inquired before exiting through the door.  
  
"Well, we're making progress. I may even be able to talk her into letting Gohan attend school by the time he's in college."  
  
"That's wonderful. Well, byebye now." With that, they were gone. Thankfully.  
  
Fortunately, one thing had gone right today. I had made two people, well one Saiyan and one person, very happy, though I doubted the peace would last. Bulma and Vegeta had been patients of mine for several years by this time and if the past held any clues to the future, they would be back. Oh, they would definitely be back, and of course, they were, but that's another chapter if I get enough reviews by then.  
  
A/N: Well, you asked for it and you got it. As SaiyanBeauty knows, I had a fight with the big ugly monster called writer's block before I was able to write this. The next chapter is going to be Piccolo and there's no way you can change my mind. Well, if I got ten reviews asking for someone else I would, but what are the odds of that? I am willing to take suggestions on the fourth chapter though so R&R. Oh, and don't forget to check out the poetry I found. Mother Nature and Musings. 


	3. Piccolo Pt1

Disclaimer: Still no money, lottery tickets, or rights to anything that could bring in millions of dollars a year. If I did, then I wouldn't be publishing this here!  
  
A/N: I'm finally writing Piccolo's chapter! I'm so happy because I've wanted to since shortly after putting this story up. Warning, this is a little intense, but the session itself should be funny. Thanx to my reviewers: Rissa of the Saiya-Jin, Jerrypaul, SaiyanBeauty, flowerchild1313, Jeril Dragonsoul, and Andriod 71! I love you guys and gals so much! A special thanx to flowerchild for taking a hint and looking at my poetry. Enough of that, on with the story!  
  
*******  
  
It was a dark and stormy night (literally!), and I was in bed shaking in fear under my covers when shadow fell on my wall. At first I thought it was only a figment of my imagination, but when I heard a knocking at the window, I realized it was real.  
  
I tried to ignore it as I squirmed still further under the covers and began reciting the Lord's Prayer, hoping against hope that whatever demon was outside would be cast down by the mighty sword of Michael.  
  
Suddenly I heard a voice say, "Come to the window. I am in need of your assistance." Now a voice isn't very weird, I know, but the storm was so ferocious that the thunder caused a constant din, much too loud for a mere voice to be heard. After reading one too many Animorph books, I realized the voice had sounded in my head and since it had asked for aid, I must try to help.  
  
I slowly reached beside my bed for the large metal flashlight I keep for both emergency lighting and self-defense. Once my fingers closed around the cold metal, I slipped out of the bed and cautiously approached the window.  
  
The creature was still there and while humanoid in shape, a quick burst of lightening told me he was not. I don't know whether it was the pair of Spock ears, the fangs glistening in the dark, or the olive complexion that made me realize I was dealing with a very odd creature against whom my metal flashlight might as well be made of paper.  
  
Again the voice repeated it's urging, "Come closer so I can see you clearly." I decided I had no choice at this point. I stepped up to the windowpane and peered out at the marvelous creature.  
  
"I won't hear your voice over the storm, so just nod your head or move your lips in response," he instructed me silently. I nodded my head in understanding. "Good. My name is Piccolo."  
  
My response at hearing that name was one of immeasurable fear and dread. Goku, of course, had long since told me of their fights, and now I, a lowly third degree purple belt hippiechick, was alone facing this demonic monstrosity.  
  
"I heard you hold counseling sessions and I would like an appointment for three o' clock tomorrow. Are you available?" sounded in my head. I was flabbergasted to say the least. The second most powerful creature on our dear planet, a villain nonetheless, was making an appointment with me. That just doesn't happen everyday, no matter who you are.  
  
I was jarred from my thoughts by an anxious, "Well?" I held up the pointer finger on my left hand in response and applied pressure to the rubber button of the flashlight with the thumb of my right hand.  
  
Once I had light, I began searching for my appointment book so I could be sure I was indeed free. As luck would have it, I found the book on my chair under a mountain of clean laundry. After turning to the correct page and quickly scanning it for a vacancy, I closed the book and returned it to its rightful place on the right speaker of my stereo. I walked to the window and nodded my approval of the aforementioned time slot.  
  
Piccolo answered inside my head with the single word, "Good," before he took to flight and evanesced into the night amid a tirade of thunder and rain. Once he was out of sight, I turned off the flashlight, and was enveloped by utter darkness. I then crawled beneath my warm covers to ponder Piccolo's reasons for contacting me, and how I would handle tomorrow's appointment.  
  
I eventually nodded off to sleep amid dreams of the numerous approaches Piccolo could take to torturing me if he so desired. My dreams ran a gauntlet of possibilities ranging from a quick and painless death, to being skinned alive, to evisceration. They were not sweet dreams.  
  
*******  
  
I awoke at noon the next day and drug myself to the kitchen for a cup of joe. If I was going to face Piccolo, I needed to do some more thinking and a bit of research. I still had no real idea on how I would handle the situation.  
  
After my coffee cup had been emptied, three times, I took a shower and got dressed. It was only two when I was finished, so I did some research.  
  
I dug through my notebooks on my sessions, looking for any reference to Piccolo. I needed to know what to expect, but what I found didn't reassure me in the least. Goku, the guy who loves and trusts everyone, had repeatedly told me that Piccolo was the very definition of evil, and I won't even repeat the things Tien and Krillin said.  
  
By the time three o'clock rolled around, I was scared beyond belief, and I had my fingers crossed that he would forget this appointment. When three came, there was no sign of Piccolo, and at three fifteen I sighed in relief and relaxed because he obviously wasn't coming.  
  
Unfortunately, at exactly three sixteen, I heard a knock at my window and I knew instantly who it was. How I dreaded letting him in! I walked to the window, opened my blinds and motioned for the Namek to go around to the back door. A moment later, he was standing in my room looking at me with those expressionless eyes of his and literally scaring me witless.  
  
*******  
  
A/N: I know this is extremely short, but it's the best I can do since the story wasn't even scheduled for publication until Tuesday! I plan to finish it while on vacation and give you an account of our actual session within twenty-four hours of my return. A cliffhanger, I'm evil. Oh, and if I don't get my reviews, you don't get part 2. At least I locked the shotgun up this time! Mom is getting mad because she wants to play free cell, so I've got to run. Peace and Out. 


	4. Piccolo Pt2

Disclaimer: If I owned DBZ, would I be locked in a hospital with Nurse Bertha? [I shiver at the thought of the devil woman.] Gotta go, Nurse Bertha's coming! (Read my bio for more information on my, uh condition and care takers.)  
  
A/N: Well, I'm back and I brought souvenirs for everyone who reviewed! (I pass out Shamu plushies.) San Antonio was great, but it's good to be home with my computer again. Sorry about the cliffhanger, so without further ado, Piccolo's session.  
  
Last Time: Piccolo visited my home on a dark and stormy night to make an appointment, causing me no small amount of worry and dread. It is now three seventeen p.m. and he is in my room/office.  
  
"H-h-hi, there," I greeted the green alien standing before me. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show."  
  
"I was delayed," came the cold response. "What do we do now?"  
  
"First I think we should formally introduce ourselves. I am hippiechick, your therapist. I've heard a little about you from some of my other patients, but I'd like you to tell me something about yourself and what you're wanting from me."  
  
"I am Piccolo. My origins are my own business and I don't care what you've heard from your other patients," came his firm reply.  
  
"Well, why did you go to the trouble last night of making an appointment with me?" It must be awfully important for him to have braved a storm as intense as last night's. It wasn't so he could just chat with me.  
  
"We will get to that when the time is right," Piccolo responded.  
  
"Does that mean you're not entirely sure of your motives?"  
  
"It mean that time is not now."  
  
"Okay, so what can you tell me at this time?" I asked cheekily.  
  
Piccolo seemed to give in, and decided to give me some much needed information. To this day, I don't know whether he did so out of courtesy, an effort to make me stop whining, or out of respect for my smart comment and courage in standing up to him. (It had to be the last one, right?)  
  
"The Saiyans are coming and we're all doomed. Goku's brother, Radditz, came and I killed them both. Now more Saiyans, powerful aliens like Goku are on their way, and it's up to me to train his weakling son, Gohan. How is that?" He gave me that trademark superiority look he has perfected to an art form.  
  
Okay, I'll admit that I knew all this, except Gohan's training, prior to the Namek's statement. Bulma had been so upset by what had happened that she was unable to function until Krillin brought her by to visit with me. She had been a wreck, so I can't blame her for forgetting all about Gohan. She had only met the tyke within hours of his abduction, and Goku's death had traumatized her. Well, enough of that, on with the session at hand.  
  
"Why did you take Gohan? He's, well wimpy and weak. What's the point in wasting your time with him?" I decided this was as good a place to start as any in my efforts to uncover the truth about Piccolo.  
  
"The child has an unimaginable power, greater than any of us. He must be ready to fight," Piccolo's eyes changed, or was it just my imagination? No, his eyes changed somehow, showed some emotion he quickly hid as he continued, "When the Saiyans arrive."  
  
"How is his training going?" I inquired.  
  
"He's strong, but I doubt he'll be ready," Piccolo answered. I was disappointed. I had hoped that spark would show in his eyes again. Now it looked as though I would never figure out what was going on in his head.  
  
Well, there was nothing left to do but ask more questions. "Why are you helping to save the earth? It wasn't too long ago when you were taking over and destroying the earth, now you're protecting it. What's up with that? What changed?"  
  
"Nothing changed," Piccolo looked down at my ugly mauve carpet that if it were anymore pink... "And everything changed."  
  
"Okay, you just lost me back there somewhere. I'll admit that I'm no Einstein, but you're getting all mysterious on me. Please be a doll and explain yourself thoroughly for the idiot that is supposed to be helping you over here." I don't have any clue why his remarks were pissing me off, but they were. Maybe it was that time of the month. You know, I really wish that certain friend wouldn't....Okay, Teasha I'll quit and get on with the story. I don't know why I'm rambling so badly today.  
  
I looked at Piccolo who seemed to be gathering his thoughts together and most likely trying to find a way to explain what was going on in his mind to a much simpler minded creature, me. "To the outside world, nothing has changed. I still fight and I still plan on ruling the world one day soon, but then again, something is different. I haven't been able to figure out what it is yet, but something has changed. Something deep and hidden."  
  
Okay, I was right. Was that deep or what? Now what to do? "When did you first notice this change?" I asked.  
  
"I guess it was shortly after Goku's death. I was in the wilderness watching Gohan sleep peacefully after having nearly destroyed everything for miles when he became a giant ape. I had just blown up the moon and at first I thought maybe that was what was causing the feelings in the pit of my stomach, but it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't it. I decided to suppress whatever it was," came the rather verbose reply. Well, it was verbose for Piccolo, not for big talkers like me, but that's another story!  
  
"Do you know what you were feeling at that moment?" I probed.  
  
"Strangely enough, pride," Piccolo answered.  
  
That was it! I knew what was going on and it was unbelievable! For the first time in his life, Piccolo cared for someone other than himself. He was unable to recognize the emotion of love!  
  
"Piccolo, I think I've figured out what's going on, but just to make sure, I have one more thing I'd like to ask you about. Why is it that having Gohan around as your pupil, and well, a son, bothers you?" I asked, hoping that his answer would confirm my suspicions.  
  
Piccolo turned his head and looked in my eyes before looking at my feet. "The truth is....I'm not ready to be a father!" he wailed.  
  
"What?!?" I couldn't believe what I had just heard. "What do you mean?"  
  
Piccolo looked up at despair filled eyes. "I'm not ready to raise a child. I haven't been around much longer than the kid! I don't know anything about being a parent!"  
  
Okay, I was definitely right. This demon was starting to feel for the boy and didn't understand what was happening to him or how to handle it. As he so aptly put it, he wasn't ready to be a father.  
  
"Let me try to explain what's going on with you right now," I started my explanation.  
  
"I sure wish someone would," he broke in before I could finish.  
  
"Okay, here goes. You are starting to feel emotions unfamiliar to you. Most notably, love. You feel pride when you look at the boy because like a father, you feel a sense of accomplishment when you think of what you have taught him and how hard he has tried to make you happy and proud of him. You really have become a surrogate father to him and like a real father, in his case that would be Goku, you care for him, yea even love him," I elucidated (explained).  
  
"You really think so?" he questioned me with hopeful countenance.  
  
"If I didn't think so, I wouldn't have said so. Cheer up buddy, feelings are a good thing as long as you practice moderation with them. I mean, they can be bad when let's say, some idiot guy does you wrong, but you think you love him, so you contemplate forgiving him, or when," I quit when I noticed the look I was receiving from my patient. "Never mind. The point is that this is wonderful news for you. Maybe if you work real hard one day you and Goku can be friends, and maybe you and Kami can even be rejoined. That would be great. Until then, work on trying to put these new feeling you've found into words. Wait, I have an idea!"  
  
I got up and dug through a deep pile of papers and books until I found exactly what I had been looking for. "Here it is!" I cried in triumph. Once again, my room and I had done battle and I had emerged the victor! I handed a book to a confused and well, amused Piccolo.  
  
"What is this and why do I need it?" He opened the book. "There's nothing written in here. What good could it be to me?"  
  
I don't know why, but I was shocked, once again, at the stupidity of one of earth's greatest beings. You would think I'd be over that after dealing with Goku all those years. "It's a journal. Mine is almost full so Mom bought me a new one. Unfortunately, I think you need it more than I do. Just write about what happens everyday and how things made you feel. You need to practice putting emotions into words, and I can't think of a better way than a journal. I expect you to be much better at this little task when you come back in a week."  
  
"A week?!? Why? I don't need your help anymore now that I know what's wrong with me!" Piccolo started to argue.  
  
"I hate to break this to you. We made a lot of progress today, but you still have one HFIL of a long way to go. Plan on visiting me once a week for at least a month and then we'll talk about a different schedule if I think you're ready."  
  
Piccolo looked dejected, but agreed with a nod of his head. Then without speaking another word, he stood up and walked out. Without paying!  
  
"Oh no you don't!!!" I yelled after him. "You are one of the hardest cases I've ever had! You will pay me for my services! Did you think they were free or something?!?"  
  
As he was about to exit my home he turned and glared down at me. "Wouldn't you call saving this planet from the Saiyans payment enough?"  
  
Dang it! He had me with that one and now I felt guilty. "I guess so...But don't expect every session to be free!"  
  
Piccolo just shook his head at my antics and walked out the door, taking flight as soon as he was outside. I guess he was going to the wilderness where he had left Gohan.  
  
I went back to my room and reviewed my notes to prepare for my next session. Who'd have ever thunk it? Piccolo has emotions. If that can happen, I guess, defeating the Saiyans is possible as well, and once again, that's another session/story.  
  
A/N: You won't believe it, but this chapter was so hard to write even if it was a labor of love! When I came back from vacation, Teasha (my therapist) demanded to have a story as payment for her taping DB and DBZ while I was gone, then there was school. I hated chemistry in high school, I cower in fear at the thought of the ways they can torture you at the college level, but I finished the story! As a warning, I have no clue who will be next and severe writer's block has attacked, so I have no clue when you'll get the next chapter. Just please be patient with me. Chem class is bad enough, I don't need hate mail or I.M.s coming from you too. Oh well, R&R. Now! 


	5. Krillin

Disclaimer: I think you get it by now.  
  
A/N: Good Dende, am I ever suffering! Everyone I know has writer's block, so right now no writing or reading! Well, at least no writing except in Chem. class. Thanks to all my reviewers. I know you have waited a long time for this, and I sure hope it's worth it! Enjoy!  
  
*******  
  
Krillin, Krillin, Krillin. What more can I say besides Krillin is Krillin. He is in my mind, the lovable Charlie Brown (who I also don't own) of the Z- senshi. Everywhere he goes, trouble follows. Poor guy.  
  
Needless to say, Krillin is another patient of mine. A short, joking, luckless cutie who, understandably has some issues. Not only does he have issues, but he causes issues, which is another story all together. Here is just an account of one of his many visits to my office.  
  
*******  
  
On this particular day, I had plans, something very unusual for me. I usually either go to school, or sit at home on my tushie all day, and since we got the computer and Internet service, I live on it as well. (Some of you reading this can testify to the truth in that last statement!)  
  
It was summer, so I didn't have school (unlike right now) and no one needed me at home, so I made a phone call and then informed my mother of my plans as I walked out the door.  
  
"I'm going to Teasha's! I have a cell phone. No talking to strangers. No drugs, unprotected sex, or alcohol, and I promise I'll try to be nice. I'll be back my morning, bye!" If you guys only knew Teasha, you'd see the humor in all this. In town there are no strangers, Teasha's never seen, much less drugs none or alcohol. Her family gets a kick out of my mean streak and the only males for miles are her grandfather and a few animals. (Ew!)  
  
When I arrived at Teasha's, she was waiting for me. At that moment, I realized something was going on that I most likely would not enjoy. I knew Teasha had given in too easily to the idea of my coming to visit!  
  
"Mar!" She was beaming as she walked to my car and gave me a hug, a bit too enthusiastically to my tastes.  
  
"What's going on?" I asked.  
  
Teasha responded with, "Nothing," and lead me to the back yard. There was most definitely something going on. There is nothing in her backyard but a rusty old riding mower, a pasture, and a shed full of junk. Well, she sure didn't led me to the pasture and she never wants anything to do with the mower, so the shed it was.  
  
"Um, what exactly are we doing back here?" I inquired as Teasha opened the shed door, revealing a room filled with cardboard Avon boxes. At that moment, I figured out what she had in mind for the day, but I wasn't about to let her know I knew.  
  
Teasha turned to me, beaming. "Remember that garage sale?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well, I thought we could go through all that stuff I have piled in the shed."  
  
"I knew it! You gave in because you wanted to put me to work!" I exclaimed. "No! I um.I wanted you to keep me company while I work!" Teasha attempted a quick recovery. Of course I wasn't about to buy it. She had wanted to put me to work all along and had tricked me into coming over because she knew I would get irritated watching her try to do things all wrong. She knows me way too well. Maybe I should find a new therapist who won't use the information they learn about me during sessions against me at later dates.  
  
I decided I might as well just give in and help since I would sooner or later anyway. I climbed in the shed and handed a box to Teasha. "Take this in the house." She obeyed and I grabbed two more and followed her inside.  
  
Eventually, we had the entire living room filled with boxes, our hair filled with dust, and about three boxes sorted. Things were not going quickly. This was most definitely going to be an all day task.  
  
Just as I pulled the fifth box out and opened the lid, we heard a knock at the door. Since Teasha was surrounded by boxes and unable to move an inch, and I practically live there anyway, I got up to answer.  
  
"Hi," I said as I opened the door. I looked around and didn't see anyone.  
  
"Who is it?" Teasha asked.  
  
"Um.I don't see anyone."  
  
At that a voice said, "Look down here."  
  
I complied and low and behold there was a short little cutie pie there! It was Krillin! The shortest case I'd ever had! (No pun intended of course. Okay, so I can't help the short jokes. It's just too easy!)  
  
"Hey! K-man! What's up (Obviously not him!)?!?" I asked. Of all my patients, I have to admit that Krillin and I probably get along the best. I wonder if it's because he gives me a boost (Get it?) of self-esteem or what.  
  
"I, uh went to your house and your mom said you were over here. Are you too busy for a, um chat?" Krillin asked self-consciously.  
  
"Teashabamon, can you handle things by yourself for a little while? I think I have an unscheduled session that needs my attention," I told Teasha. (Teashabamon is a name another friend gave Teasha because she loves Digimon and we honestly think it stinks, so she was making fun of her.)  
  
I heard a noise, saw a few boxes fall, and then a small voice called out, "I'm fine! No, really, just use my room. I'll see you in a little while, if I can get out!" Unfortunately, this was no surprise to me. Teasha is always doing things like that, and to think that she's my therapist. What am I doing to these poor guys and gals? Whatever it is, it can't be good.  
  
"Thank you Teasha. We'll be back in a little while and if you haven't found your way out by then, we'll help," I called laughing my booty off as I lead Krillin down the hallway to Teasha's room.  
  
"Here we are. It's really nice in here even though Teasha would argue with me about that, and I'll show you something cool," I told Krillin as I walked to Teasha's entertainment center and turned one angel figurine two degrees to the left. "When she comes in here, you'll see something really funny. She thinks her room is a mess, but if you move one thing the slightest bit, she'll notice and freak! I love torturing her!" I was getting excited thinking of the show Teasha was sure to put on later when she finally got up and into her room.  
  
"Um, that's great," Krillin replied half-heartedly. Now that was weird. Krillin is a bit of a practical joker himself, that's why I had moved the angel in the first place. I had figured he would get a kick out of it, but he was acting like he had something dire on his mind.  
  
"Hey, K-Man, what's on your mind? (Not much on it, but there sure is a lot above it! Sorry, I really just can't help myself!)" I asked with concern as I sat on the bed in front of Krillin, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor.  
  
"Nothing much, I'm just a little depressed that's all," he replied. Okay, why do all my patients have to fight me? No matter how many times they come to see me or what dirt I have on them, I have to drag out whatever it is. Why can't they for once just friggin' tell me what's bugging them?!?  
  
"Well, why are you depressed? You usually hang around Goku and I can't see anyone staying depressed around him. Irate maybe, but depressed, never."  
  
"Goku's the person I'm mad at!" Krillin replied rather forcefully. This I just couldn't understand. Goku and Krillin are best friends and they usually get along so well. What could have possibly happened to cause Krillin to be so angry with Goku?  
  
"What did Goku do?" I asked.  
  
"It's not just what he's done, but what he hasn't done either."  
  
I was really starting to get confused. Goku did something to make Krillin upset, but he didn't do anything and that made Krillin upset. I know that at times I sound like a blonde, but in truth I'm a brunette slightly on the red side, so I'm no idiot. Not that blondes are idiots (One blonde made me feel really stupid the other day.), but I'm just making a point. If I have hurt your self-esteem or just plain offended you, just send me an email or let me know in your review and we can have a session. Free of charge! (I'd never charge anyone for the things I'll do to your mind because you'll need the money when you seek professional help to correct all the damage I will cause!)  
  
"Would you care to elaborate, Krillin?" I had to know what was going on with the wee man. (There I go again with the short jokes.) If Goku had really done something, I was probably going to be seeing him too before much longer.  
  
"It's just that Goku gets everything! He always wins, always saves the day, and he gets the girl! He's a complete buffoon and everyone loves him! He's a Kami *censored* glory hog, that's what he is!" Krillin shouted at me like I was the cause of all his problems.  
  
"Wait a darn minute!" I replied to him a bit loudly, I'm sure, since my head was filled with a ringing from his previous outburst. I then acted like Goten and "cleaned out" my ears in an attempt to regain some of my formerly perfect hearing.  
  
"Teasha is in the next room. If you don't want her in the middle of this, you had best keep it down. Secondly, this session is brought to you courtesy of my golden heart, so if you yell at me again, I'm going to go into *censored* mode and kick your *censored* out of here and you can forget about any future sessions."  
  
Krillin looked at his hands, which were folded in his lap. "I'm sorry about yelling like that. I really appreciate you listening and everything. I'm just so upset at Goku."  
  
"Why don't you just tell me what all has happened. Believe it or not, I might have a little advise for you. I've never led you astray before, have I?" I braced myself for what I knew was coming. I had left myself wide open for that one and I knew it.  
  
"Well, there was that one time when," Krillin started before I cut him off.  
  
"Okay, so I gave you some bad advise one time! Will you get over it?!? One friggin' time! And it wasn't like it was something important or anything! No, it was dating advice. How was I to know she was allergic to roses? It's not like I did it on purpose or anything. I wish you'd just drop it already!" I exclaimed in frustration.  
  
"Okay, I'll forgive and forget. You wanted to know when all the problems with Goku started..Well, that was back when we first met and were training under Master Roshi. Goku found the rock, and I tricked him and stole it, so I got supper and then supper turned out to be inedible! Goku won that round. And then there was," Krillin rambled on and on as my eyelids dropped, so I just scooted backward on the bed until my back was against the wall, tuned back into Krillin's story to see how far along he was, and seeing as how he was just getting warmed up, took a nap.  
  
When I awoke, Krillin had moved on to more recent happenings. "Then at the end of the day, after having won the tournament, he gets married! I couldn't believe it! He didn't know what a wife was and he got married! I know what a wife is, I even know what you're supposed to do with a wife, but who gets married first? Goku!"  
  
"Krillin, I'm really having fun listening to your life story and all, but please tell me what the latest thing Goku did was. I'm begging you! If you tell me one more ridiculous story about what happened at the Kame House, I'm going to tear your tongue out and shove it down your throat! Understand?" I hated to be so harsh, but enough is enough! I couldn't take anymore. I looked up at the clock and realized Teasha had been in there alone for about and hour now, and knowing her, she was still trapped beneath the multitude of boxes which had cascaded down on her earlier.  
  
In reply, Krillin swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and started. "Well, we were fighting a really bad Saiyan named Vegeta. Now he was an awesome fighter with more power than I had ever dreamed possible! Well, when Gohan and I arrived, Goku was pretty much out of the fight, so it was up to us to save the day. Thankfully, we were up to the task."  
  
Once again growing impatient, I cleared my throat signaling to Krillin I was getting upset once again.  
  
"Um, then everyone was out and Vegeta was crawling to his pod. I picked up Yajirobe's sword and was about to put an end to Vegeta's tyranny when Goku started talking to me inside my head. Just as I was about to stab Vegeta, Goku told me not to! I couldn't believe it! After all Vegeta had done and all he had sworn to do, Goku wanted me to let him leave!  
  
"Being the good friend I am, I agreed and let Vegeta escape, and you want to know who got all the credit for the fight? Goku! I would have been the one who saved the world this time had it not been for Goku. He stole my one time in the limelight! I hate him! For once, I want to be recognized for my contributions! Just once instead of Goku taking all the credit!" Krillin poured his heart and soul out to me.  
  
Poor Krillin, he just wanted some R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Who could blame the little guy? He works just as hard as everyone else, he can't help it if he was born a human instead of Saiyan like Goku. Now, what to tell him? It's not like I can really do anything about it, and there's nothing anyone can say to make him feel better. I know, because there are plenty of times I feel overworked and under appreciated. What to do?  
  
"Listen to me, Krillin. I know that you work real hard and it seems like no one ever gives you the credit you deserve, but I personally appreciate what you do and so do plenty other people. Besides, you didn't do everything for the praise; you did it because it's right. That's more important any way and the people who really matter know what you do and they appreciate everything."  
  
I was racking my brain for a solution. Anything to make Krillin feel better about himself, when an idea came to as if sent by Kami himself!  
  
"Krillin, hang on for a minute. I just remembered I have a phone call I need to make. I'll be back as soon as I'm done," I explained as I grabbed Teasha's cordless phone and headed outside to make my call.  
  
As I passed through the living room, I was happy to see Teasha. Not only could I see her, but she was completely free of the boxes, sitting on the couch watching television.  
  
"Hey! It's good to see you again. I didn't think you'd be out yet," I called as I walked past.  
  
"I'm okay, really," Teasha replied. "How's the session going and where are you going with my phone?"  
  
"I have to make a call and I don't want Krillin to hear. It's a surprise," I answered her.  
  
"What are you planning?"  
  
"I'm going to have everyone tell Krillin how much they appreciate him, that's what I have planned. It's for someone else's good, so back off." I went outside to the backyard and dialed Bulma collect. She's rich enough; she can pay for a collect call from me.  
  
We talked for a few minutes as I divulged the details of my plan. When I was finished, I walked back inside the house, told Teasha I was almost finished, and went back to her room where Krillin was waiting patiently, I might add, for my return.  
  
"I'm back. Look Krillin, you need to quit worrying about what other people think of you and just do what you think is right. That's all that matters. Let the past go and look forward to the future. There are people who appreciate you and there will be more in the future, so cheer up little pal!" I said as I walked in, trying to end the session so I could get finished helping Teasha and take a nap. I rush my patients a lot so that I can take a nap, don't I? Does that make me a bad therapist? Well, doctors rush their patients so they can go play golf; I guess it's about the same.  
  
"I think I'll be okay now. I feel better just having told someone how I feel." Krillin did seem happier and much more content. We had come a long way is such a short period of time.  
  
"By the way, while you were out making that phone call, Teasha came in here and freaked out! She took one look inside the room and ran over to straighten that angel. Is that what you were planning on happening?" Krillin asked. Honestly, I had forgotten all about that angel, but that was exactly what I had known would happen. Teasha just can't stand it when something in her room is misplaced, especially by someone else.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I figured she would do. She's kinda funny like that. Anyway, I think you need to get back to Master Roshi's island and continue your training, and if you ever need my help again, you know how to reach me," I said, rushing him out the front door. I was really eager for that nap. I wonder if it could have anything to do with my staying up all night on the computer writing and chatting? Well, chatting mostly. I think that's also why chapters seem to be coming much more slowly now than they were.  
  
As soon as Krillin was out the front door, I closed and locked it before turning to answer Teasha's questions.  
  
"What exactly was all that about?" she asked first off.  
  
"Krillin was feeling under appreciated, so I called in a favor to Bulma. She's over at Master Roshi's with what's left of the gang, planning a party for Krillin, just because they care. I think it'll show him people do care about him and the contributions he makes to the Earth's Special Forces. That's all he really needs right now anyway. I think he'll be just fine," I related the session to Teasha, who wasn't paying the least bit of attention to me because Hamtaro was on. I can't believe she watches that show voluntarily!  
  
We spent the rest of the day sorting boxes and cleaning up the living room, and yes, I did get my nap. I'm sure everyone out there was real worried about that too.  
  
Well, the next day I got a call from Bulma saying the party had been a real success and Krillin was doing great. I was so glad to hear it. Once again though, I knew my patient and knew he'd be back and most likely with a worse problem, one a party wouldn't solve. Then what would I do? Oh well, I'll get there when the time is right.  
  
*******  
  
A/N: So, what did you think? Leave me a review and let me know. To be honest, I'm not one hundred percent sure who will be next. I do plan on writing a Mirai Trunks session, but you'll have to give me time for that one. I have some ideas for sessions with Goku and Bulma, Videl, Puar, and Hercule. If anyone has any requests, tell me and I just might give it a whirl! Also, if you would like an email whenever I update, let me know. Review, now and until next time, Peace and Out. 


	6. Puar

Disclaimer: I don't own DB/Z/GT, but I do own the Vegeta, Gohan, Mirai Trunks, Goten (adult), and Yamcha who are currently chained to my bed. ^_^  
  
A/N: I know updates are taking forever, but I'm working very hard to catch up, I promise. Much thanks and lots of love to all my reviewers, especially to Jadedbest who was kind enough to give this story some publicity.  
  
*******  
  
I have a new session to report. Things have been pretty hectic lately and for some reason, these people's problems seem to get stupider and stupider. I must say thought that Puar's takes the cake for stupidity. Read this and I'm sure you'll agree.  
  
*******  
  
One evening I was sitting in my room watching my recorded episodes of The Mighty Ducks when the phone rang. At first I didn't even recognize the sound. The phone rarely rings at our house because I live on the Internet.  
  
Well, once I knew what the noise was, I had to find my phone. My new one is cordless and seems to find its way to the floor under piles of books, clothing, and other junk. Once found, I answered it only to hear the world's highest-pitched, most annoying voice ever. It was Puar, Yamcha's flying, shape-shifting feline friend.  
  
She had a problem, as if you couldn't guess. The only clue she would give me was it had something to do with one of the Z-Fighters. Once again, big surprise there, I'm sure.  
  
We chatted for a few minutes more and set an appointment for the following week. Don't ask why, but I keep track of how and when my patients make their appointments along with what happens during the actual sessions.  
  
On Tuesday, I skipped out on going to visit Teasha and went straight home to prepare for Puar's visit. Admittedly, my brain was fried. After attending Calculus III and Government classes, my mind had suffered a serious information overload, but an appointment is like a promise and I never break either if at all possible.  
  
I had purposely set the session for lunch, so I put my muffins in the oven and changed into my pajamas. What can I say? I'm a hippie at heart and detest "real" clothing due to the fact that I find them uncomfortable. I'm rambling again, sorry.  
  
Almost as soon as I had finished dressing, I heard a knock at my door. It was my baby brother. After listening to his stuttering for two and a half minutes, I pieced together that I had a visitor, a kitty cat. I finally got him to shut up, and move out of my way so I could show my patient to my room/office, promptly closing the door behind her.  
  
"Please excuse the mess," I started. "I did some cleaning, but between homework, writing, chatting on the net, and sleeping, I didn't have enough time to finish."  
  
Puar replied in her normal high-pitched voice, "It's okay. I'm used to messes."  
  
"I'm sure since you live at a bachelor pad. Well, I have lunch in the oven and I plan on eating as soon as it's done, so start talking," I prodded.  
  
"Okay," she answered, staring at the wall.  
  
While waiting for her to reveal her innermost thoughts and feelings, I dug up some paper, a pencil, and the piece of cardboard I use in conjunction with my legs as a desk. I sat on my bed, got comfortable, and waited for her to start talking.  
  
I waited.  
  
I waited some more.  
  
Finally, I looked at my clock and saw I could wait no longer if I wanted anything more than carbon to eat. My muffins were cooking!  
  
"Would you friggin' tell me why the heck you're here taking up my precious time when I could be working on a new fanfic?!?" It was so time to get things rolling!  
  
"Puar looked at me from where she was, err, floating. Cool, a floating cat. I've never seen one of those before. Oh yeah, moving on...  
  
She decided to speak, finally. It was about time, though weird. Well, I guess after seeing a floating cat, seeing a floating, speaking cat is no big deal.  
  
"It's Yamcha," she sighed sadly.  
  
I've said this before, and I'll say it again. Why can't my patients ever just tell me what's wrong?!? It's so, so, so frustrating! Sorry about that. I had another quick outburst. I'll try and do better in the future, just bear with me.  
  
Slowly and deliberately, I asked, "What about Yamcha?" I don't know whether it was my tone of voice, the insane, murderous look in my eyes, or simply the stress from holding her true feelings in all those years, but Puar replied promptly and loudly.  
  
"I hate him! I can't stand him! I wish he was still dead!"  
  
"Well, um, okay," I answered, quickly trying to think of what to say next. Ouch, thinking hurts..."What is it about Yamcha that you hate so much?"  
  
"He's stuck on himself, he never moves from the mirror, he's never serious, and won't quit moaning about losing Bulma! It was years ago!" Puar explained for me.  
  
Honestly, I couldn't see where there existed a real problem. All I saw was a simple solution, most likely too simple for a frustrated flying feline (So what if I like using alliteration?) to figure for herself.  
  
"Move out, problem solved, case closed, good-bye," I said rising from my bed to show her the door.  
  
"I can't," was her simple reply.  
  
I should have known it wouldn't be that simple. Why can't it ever be that simple? You don't like your roommate, so move out. What could be simpler? Wait! I'm getting paid by the hour. I want their problems to seem gargantuan and insurmountable so they come more often and stay longer! I have to buy a computer before I move, or no more retarded stories written and edited at two am while on a sugar high, like this one!  
  
While these thoughts were rushing through my mind, Puar had been eyeing me expectantly. When my train of thoughts finally chugged to a halt, I realized I had best start them again to figure out what she was wanting from me...Chug-a-chug...Woo!Woo!...Ah, ha! She wanted me to ask her why she couldn't move, so I did, and she answered. You know the drill.  
  
"Why?"  
  
She took a quick breath before answering. "He owes me money."  
  
"Um, okay...How much money and for how long?"  
  
"Since we first met. He didn't have money for the vending machine and I could tell he was really thirsty and needed that Sprite, so I loaned him fifty cents." She seemed somewhat proud, most likely for both her revelation and the single, seemingly insignificant, act of kindness.  
  
"Alrighty then, so that was the first time he borrowed money...How much does he owe you now, the grand total?" I asked her. I knew the guy was a bum, a hot bum, but a bum just the same. He had bummed off Bulma, obviously Puar, and anyone else who would feed and clothe him, so he could focus on fighting. He reminds me of a Saiyan.  
  
The thing about it is, I know he has money. For a while, he had a right to be a bum, but now I know he has the money to pay his debts. He made loads of cash playing pro baseball. Yamcha must owe Puar a ton of cash to have not paid her back.  
  
"Well," Puar thought for a moment. "He now owes me.... "  
  
"Tick-tock," said the clock for almost three whole minutes while she added everything up.  
  
"Twenty-five cents," she stated proudly after all her calculations were through.  
  
That couldn't be right. "Huh?" I asked in my confusion. "He owes you less than half a dollar. Is that correct?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Let me get this straight. You're living with someone you can't stand, simply because he owes you a quarter?" I had to make sure I had heard her right.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"One moment, please." I placed my pencil on the bed beside me, picked up my desktop with both hands, and proceeded to hit my forehead repeatedly, hoping against hope that I might knock a circuit in my head to the right position, allowing her logic, or lack thereof, to make sense. When I finished, it still didn't, but there was a dull throbbing at the spot.  
  
"What the heck?!? Have you lost your senses completely?!?" I proceeded to chide her. "Here!" I got off my bed, grabbed my piggy bank from my dresser, and got a quarter. "Take this! Now Yamcha owes me a quarter and not you! Move out so you can have a bathroom to yourself and never hear about Bulma again! Just don't come bothering me again with problems this stupid! Sheesh!!!"  
  
Puar looked at me, her eyes filled with admiration. "Thank you so much. Now I can be free! I'm so excited, but I must warn you that it may take ten or fifteen years for you to get Yamcha to pay you back."  
  
I sighed. "I guess I'll just add it to his bill." My beeper on the oven sounded, signaling my muffins were ready. "Now get your flea infested carcass outta here so I can eat!" We began the trek from my room to the door. "I swear, you people," I muttered.  
  
As we reached the back door, the only door of our house in operation, I opened it wide for Puar, and she flew right out, thankfully. I sighed in relief, closed the door, shook my head in disbelief of the session I had just held, and thought about how these sessions seem to get weirder and weirder.  
  
The beeper sounded again, and I heard my mother open the oven to retrieve my chocolate chip delicacies. I went to the kitchen and took over for her before going to my room to redo my notes from the sessions and eat before taking my precious nap. I had karate that night, instructing children. I so needed that nap.  
  
A/N: Well, Puar is going to move out of Yamcha's place. Is this the end? I don't know, so don't even bother asking me. Who's notebook will I find next? I have no clue about that either. Oh, for those of you who have left suggestions for future chapters, I haven't forgotten you and I do plan on using several of them. You all just have to give me time, something I'm fighting for! Well, if you want some good reading, I suggest you all check out my latest story, The Truth. It's about Trunks and Pan, but with a major twist. I think you all will like it. Okay, this is a long enough A/N, so I'll leave you with one last request....Review!!!  
  
A/N 2: This is addressed to everyone who wanted a Mirai Trunks chapter. I really want to write one for you, but I'm having the worst writer's block! I'm going to go read my manga, hopefully sometime soon. Maybe that will help. If you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas, please either let me know in your review or email me. I really want to do a Trunks chapter! Help! 


	7. Master Roshi

Disclaimer: Hmm.Uh.No.Sorry.  
  
A/N: I know it took me a while, but I'm back with a new chapter! Wait, you already knew that, didn't you? As always, thanks so much to all my reviewers. I hope you all enjoy this one!  
  
It had been yet another long Monday with my Organic Chemistry Lab going way over its normal time. Instead of getting out at six, I didn't get a chance to leave until after eight.  
  
Thankfully, there had been one up to the day. We had been working with toluene! For those of you unfamiliar with pure toluene and its effects on me, here's a quick rundown. Let's just say the fumes make long labs easier to bear but harder to do, due to our mental state after a few whiffs. Good stuff, though I'm sure it's very bad for you.  
  
When I finally made it home at almost nine that night, I discovered I was going to be making my own supper since I had missed the one Mom had cooked. Mom also had a message for me. Unfortunately, the words therapy session were included. For some unknown reason, she had taken it upon herself to schedule me a session. We were going to have to have a talk about that.  
  
Well basically, I wrote down the appointment in my book, dug out a notebook to use for the session, and then got on the net for my normal chat time. I have to have some form of daily R&R.  
  
A few days later, it was Friday, and after spending all night Thursday writing and editing, I was sound asleep even though it was after noon. While cuddling with my Kurama pillow, having sweat, err, sweet dreams, my baby brother came running back to my room, making enough noise to wake the dead.  
  
Banging on my door, he started yelling, "Mar! Mar! Mom said wake up right now! You got company!" As he continued banging on the door, I realized there in no rest for the weary, and drug myself out of the bed, dressing before going to see who had dared to visit and wake me from that dream. Kami! I was having fun being married to a demon!  
  
Upon entering the living room, I heard a crude laugh and turned to see a bald old man wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a tropical print shirt. The odd thing about him, outside of his crude laugh and summer attire in the fifty-degree weather outside, was the turtle shell on his back. Why would anyone wear a turtle shell? I guess whatever floats your boat, but a turtle shell? Well, as long as he found it and didn't kill the animal, I guess it's okay.  
  
Jumping from the couch with more energy than me chasing that really fine guy in my government class, the old man spoke. "You must be my therapist! I knew I had come to the right place!"  
  
First off, no one is ever that happy to see me unless they're on something. This guy was definitely strange, hopefully not so much so that I would be unable to help him. Secondly, I wanted to know which baka had given him my number. Whoever it was would pay and dearly.  
  
"Uh, probably so," I answered him, taking a few steps in his direction and extending my hand, which he shook vigorously, his eyes on my breasts. "My name's Mar, and I guess we'd best get started since the clock is running on your session as we speak."  
  
"Alright!" This guy was way too energetic. Maybe he had ADD. That would sure be fun to try to help with. Does anyone note a certain amount of sarcasm in that last sentence? Just checking, making sure you're all still awake. Moving on.  
  
"Uh, sure thing," I said unsurely. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever survive. "If you'll just follow me to my office, we can get started." I turned and started back toward my room with him hot on my heels.  
  
"Here we are," I said, opening the door wide. "Just have a seat on the bed and we'll get started." My mother now has that chair I used to have in my room for my laundry and patients. Doesn't that suck? Now I have to sit on the floor. Go figure.  
  
As he settled in, I grabbed the fresh notebook I had set out, a permanent marker, my pencil, and my cardboard thingy to write on, took my seat on the floor, and prepared to begin this most arduous session.  
  
"Let's start with your name," I suggested.  
  
The old man gave an almost toothless grin and told me, "Roshi, Master Roshi, the Turtle Hermit."  
  
"Very nice," I told him, opting to simply write "Roshi" on the front of his notebook. What is it with these people and titles? Yamcha, the Desert Bandit, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, Master Roshi, the Turtle Hermit, and don't even get me started on Tenchi's crew. I think I'm going to give myself a title too. Hmm.maybe Mar, the Insane Hippiechick. You know, that has a certain ring to it. By golly, I think I like it! From now on that is my name, Mar, the Insane Hippiechick, or just Mar, or Hc for short. Yeah.  
  
Back to the fut...err...story. I opened my notebook and was ready to begin. "Let's start with what you do for a living," I suggested.  
  
Grinning broadly, he began. "Being one of the strongest fighters on the planet, I teach a select few my skills and knowledge of how to control ki. Some of my former students have gone on to accomplish great things, but right now, sadly, I live alone. It seems no one is worthy of learning the mystical Kamehameha Wave, a devastating attack I invented."  
  
I gave him an odd look and wrote, "Profession - bum."  
  
"Next, why don't you tell me who suggested you come see me?" I asked. I had to know who to kill.  
  
"Why, that was Krillin, one of my students, and then Turtle, my friend, talked me into coming."  
  
I wrote, "Kill - Krillin, Turtle," and for good measure, I added, "Chi-Chi." That chick was really on my nerves lately. My hit list was growing. One of these days... Oh yeah, the session. I was rambling again, wasn't I?  
  
"Alright, now that we have all that cleared up, what's your problem? Why did your friends send you to see me?" Somehow I knew I really didn't want to know. Something told me I should have kept my mouth closed.  
  
"Hehe, I have a problem with girls!" he exclaimed a bit too excitedly for my preference.  
  
I frowned. "A problem with girls? Could you be just a tad more specific? Are you having trouble asking them out, keeping the one you have happy, or just understanding them?"  
  
His eyes flashed and suddenly he held two magazines, a Playboy in his left hand and Penthouse in his right. What was an old geezer like him wanting with those? I mean, at his age, no matter how spry he acted, it probably took a full bottle of Viagra to get him through just one of those.  
  
"So, you're telling me you're problem with women is your addiction to porn. Right?" For some really strange reason, I didn't have much trouble believing it. Maybe it was due to the looks he kept giving me. I subconsciously reached and pulled up my shirt's neckline. I wasn't about to give this perv a free show.  
  
"Right," he agreed, thumbing through the Playboy.  
  
"Alright." I stood, crossed the short distance between us in only a few steps, and snatched the magazines away, dropping them in the trash can on my way back to my spot and taking a seat. "We'll have none of that in here. I don't want trash like that in my room. Besides, they're distractions, which can greatly hinder the effectiveness of our session. Understood?"  
  
Roshi, looking as if he had lost his best friend and might cry, simply nodded his head.  
  
Leaning back, against my entertainment center, I began formulating and dismissing plans. There had to be something I could do to help him. Maybe if he got out of the house and got some action every now and then.shuddering, I tossed that idea. We could try a slow withdrawal, but judging from his earlier exhibits, he had no self-control, rendering that plan useless.  
  
After another few ideas and yawns, I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere with this unless I pumped some caffeine into my system. It was time for a coke, or coffee, if Mom had a fresh pot.  
  
I sat my tools aside and stood. "I'm going to the kitchen for something to drink. Would you like anything?"  
  
"A beer!"  
  
"Uh, sorry. We're fresh out. Anything else?" We don't keep alcohol in the house. We just don't.  
  
Well, Roshi shook his head, and I started for the kitchen, and was almost out the door before I remembered the magazines in my trash can. Taking note of the way Roshi kept looking at the can, I decided that moment would be the perfect time to empty my trash, so I removed the bag, twisted it closed, and went on my merry way.  
  
I went to the laundry room first to get a tie for my bag and a fresh one to replace it. After doing that, I sat the full bag on the dryer for someone to take outside, and went to the kitchen, looking for a soda since the coffee pot was empty. I opened the fridge, grabbed a Cherry Coke, snagged a Hostess Cupcake from under the counter, and started back to my room.  
  
As I neared my door, I noticed some rather strange noises coming from within and silently cursed myself for closing the door. My hand only inches from the doorknob, I heard an excited, "Woohoohoohoo! Black!" emanate from within. That was it. Something was going on in there and I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it.  
  
I quickly grasped the knob, jerked open the door, and immediately spotted the ancient one at my dresser, my purple panties in one hand, and my black push-up bra in the other. My underwear drawer was wide open.  
  
I set down my coke and turned to face the perpetrator.  
  
"What the heck do you think you're doing?!?" I yelled, snatching my undergarments from him, throwing them back in their drawer and slamming it shut. "How dare you invade my privacy like that?!?" At this, I grabbed the jerk's arm, being sure to grip it as tightly as possible, which is pretty tight since I play the piano, digging my fingernails into his flesh, hoping to draw blood, and practically threw him out of my room. Once he had recovered his balance, I placed my hands on his back and with my arms fully extended, rather roughly showed him to the door, where I decided to continue berating him.  
  
"I don't know, nor do I care to know your reasons for being in my underwear, but if you ever show up here and act like that again, so help me, I'll fill your butt with birdshot! You are the first patient I've ever dismissed simply because I refuse to deal with them, but I do refuse until you grow up a little and get your hormones under some semblance of control. Now get out of here and be sure to tell Krillin he's a dead man for this, I swear it!" My rant complete, I turned around and went back inside, slamming the door and locking it behind me. Once back in my room, I sighed, looking at the mess on my floor. Then I picked up my notebook to finish my notes on the session.  
  
"Diagnoses - Porn obsession. Treatment - none. Comments - keep shotgun with birdshot ready and never leave him unattended. Also, he has a tendency to open drawers, especially underwear."  
  
Notes completed, I placed Roshi's notebook on my shelf with the others and shaking my head sadly, began the process of cleaning my room, after getting my caffeine fix.  
  
A/N: Hmm... What do you think? Should I have murdered the punk? Gosh was he ever on my nerves! I've never had a session that bad. Well, I have no idea what session I'll have ready for you guys and gals next, but be patient and I'll have something, soon I hope. Oh, I do still accept ideas/suggestions for later chapters, but don't even mention Trunks. I'm working on a storyline as we speak, just give me time to get truly inspired and you'll get your chapter! I will however be relying on your reviews to keep me motivated. The more reviews, the quicker I will get another chapter completed. Be sure to R&R! 


	8. Puar II

Disclaimer: Mar - Woohoo! I won the lottery and bought DBZ!!!  
  
Vegeta - *smack*  
  
Mar - *wakes up* Ouch! What was that for?!? *rubs head*  
  
Vegeta - You were dreaming again.  
  
Mar - *grins*  
  
Vegeta - *smacks*  
  
Mar - *frowns* Dang, not dreaming anymore. *pouts*  
  
Vegeta - She doesn't own us. *smacks Mar again for the heck of it* Or Blue's Clues, and Stephen King is his own person, for now.  
  
Mar - Ouch! *glares at Vegeta*  
  
A/N: Alright, I know it's been forever since I last updated this monster, but I've been extremely busy with college, and with all this stress, I haven't been in much of a humorous mood. Maybe that'll change pretty soon. I hope so anyway! Well, enough from me, so read and enjoy!!! Oh, and thanks to all my reviewers past and present. I love you guys!!! *sniffles*  
  
*******  
  
Well, I decided to clean my room. Again! That's now twice in under six months! Of course, I didn't just clean my room for kicks. Oh no. I had lost something, my most treasured possession of all *a light shines down from heaven as the angels begin to play their harps*, The Sacred Notebook Of Fanfiction.  
  
Hey! Stop laughing! It isn't funny! Fine then, yuck it up! See if I care! I'll just lose the notebook again and you won't get any more updates, late or otherwise! Do I hear silence? That's what I thought.  
  
As usual, while cleaning my room, I found a trove of hidden treasures, my notebook included. I even found two hundred dollars in twenties, hidden in various locations around the room. Most importantly, after The Sacred Notebook, I found yet another notebook. Actually, it was one I had found and lost again only a few weeks ago. Anyway, I found The Sacred Notebook, various other treasures, and a notebook with "Puar" written on the cover.  
  
A quick glance through my notes reminded me the information I disclosed not too long ago represents only half the story, so without further ado, the end of Puar's Yamcha dilemma.  
  
*******  
  
I had been sitting on the computer, chatting with my friends, drinking my latte, and eating animal crackers. Needless to say, I was having a great time exchanging fic ideas. I was in the middle of typing the outline for Learning To Love Again when my little brother went berserk trying to get my attention. Finally pulling myself from the screen, I noticed we had company knocking on the door.  
  
I jumped from the rocking chair and rushed to the door. Opening it, I nearly fell out in shock. There was a blue cat floating at my head level. Now, I've seen Puar before, but I had had warning she was coming then. A talking, floating, blue cat is not something you want to surprise you, trust me.  
  
Gaining some semblance of composure back, I moved aside, allowing my feline friend entrance.  
  
"So, is there any particular reason behind this visit?" I asked, leading the way to the computer. Hey, I can chat and hold a conversation at the same time. Ask any of my friends, I'm great at multitasking. In fact, my attention span is so short I have to, or I get extremely bored. There I go rambling again. Oh well, just call it the scenic route to my next point.  
  
"Well, yes," Puar replied, prompting a sigh from me, as I began telling everyone good-bye and shutting down all my windows. Puar's problems always required my full attention to comprehend, much less solve.  
  
After shutting everything down and signing off the net, I led the shape- shifter to my room, closed the door behind us, and began the great notebook search. My room's always a mess, so sometimes finding a single object is a rather difficult task. Eventually I did locate not only Puar's notebook, but also my pencil so I could take notes, and I settled in on my bed, Puar opting to hover a few feet away.  
  
"Okay, so what's your problem, Puar? If my notes and brain are correct, last time you were having problems with your living arrangements, and once all debts were settled, you moved out. Am I correct?" I started this session.  
  
"Yes, you are." Her voice had not improved since our last meeting. Hopefully I wouldn't get a migraine afterward like last time.  
  
"Well, you said you had a problem and now is typically when my patients start telling me what's going on, being sure to speak in code so as to annoy me and force me to drag their real problem from them, so have at it." I smiled encouragingly at her, hoping she had gotten my not so subtle hint for her to hurry. I was wasting valuable time I could spend chatting!  
  
"Well, I guess that's a good idea," Puar squeaked at me before falling silent.  
  
Figuring she was gathering her thoughts, I watched the second hand on my clock go around five times before saying anything. "Sometime today would be nice."  
  
"Sorry!" she apologized quickly. "Ever since our last session, I've been living on my own, and to pay the rent, I got a job. I work in the freak show of a carnival." Why was I not surprised? I guess people will pay money for just about anything these days, and to see a talking, flying, blue.Okay, so maybe seeing Puar was rather unique."It's okay, fun sometimes, but something's missing," she trailed off.  
  
That wasn't what I had asked for, but this information was certainly a start, or at least entertainment. "So, you're self-sufficient. Good for you!" I praised her obvious hard work. Then again, is working in a freak show really all that hard? I mean, all you have to do is be yourself if you're a talking, flying.you've heard this description before. Next time why don't we all say it together kiddies?!? All right, I'm okay now. I do believe I have watched one too many episodes of Blue's Clues.  
  
"Wow! You really think so?" Puar questioned me. One look at her confirmed she was ready to continue with that particular train of thought, which would lead us in the opposite direction of her problem and she might never leave and simply follow me around the rest of my life talking! I'd be sitting in my Calculus IV class taking the final and she'd ask if I had money for a coke! I'd be on a date having a deep, intellectually stimulating conversation with a rich foreign guy and she'd ask a question! I'd be on my honeymoon in Japan and hear that voice!!! Ah!!! That's worse than any Stephen King novel!!!  
  
"Yes, I do. Now, back to your problem. What is it, exactly?" I asked, getting my companion back on track and hopefully out of my office/bedroom as soon as possible.  
  
Puar's face fell. "Well, it's too quiet."  
  
I was about to growl in frustration as I pushed a particularly stubborn ringlet behind my left ear. "What's too quiet?"  
  
Puar sighed. "Home. It's just not home. There's no one there to spend forever in the bathroom or ignore me because a beautiful woman has paid a visit. I miss Yamcha." Ever seen a cat cry? Me neither, but I sure came close!  
  
"What you're saying is that after all our time together last session, you telling me how much you hate him and me getting you rid of that man, you want to go back to him?"  
  
Puar nodded meekly. It was the typical response for many females. Get rid of the good for nothing loser wannabe man, and then miss him and want him back. Normally I'd suggest getting a dog, but in her case, that might not be such a wise decision...  
  
"But why?!?" I asked. She was being overwhelmed by some pressing reason making her want to go back. Right? "Are you now okay with Yamcha's bad habits? Do they now bring you pleasure instead of irritation?"  
  
Puar shook her head. "No, they still get on my nerves," she stated simply.  
  
"Then why would you want to go back to them?!?"  
  
Puar shrugged at me once again. "I don't know. I just do."  
  
"Excuse me one moment, please." I set the notebook aside, placed my pencil on it, and proceeded to hit my head with that piece of cardboard I use as a desktop, once again, praying to Kami it would knock a circuit to the right position, allowing me to understand that cat. Wait! Understand the cat? If this weren't me we were talking about, I'd say the author just went mad. Fortunately for you, she didn't. I've been like this for years and you can't go somewhere you already are.  
  
Settling down, I once again turned my undivided attention to my patient, who was looking at me oddly. "What?" I asked irritably. Why can't people use logic and just see things my way? It would certainly make life simpler and save us all a lot of time and heartache, not to mention headaches, which now that you mention it, I was getting at that moment.  
  
"Do you do that in every session?" Puar asked, still giving me that strange look.  
  
"What's it to ya?" I asked before sighing. "No. Actually, you're the only patient who's caused me to do that."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
"I guess you're going back to him then..."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"I hope you're very happy together because after this little incident, I give up." My eyes flashed in anger. "Oh, and I don't ever want to hear another complaint about how you hate Yamcha and he's on your nerves unless you're willing to do something about it. Permanently." I couldn't control her actions, but I sure could control what crap I had to endure during future sessions!  
  
Puar, sweat dropping, nodded her understanding. "Okay. I guess that's fair enough. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."  
  
I shook my head. "No need to apologize. I now accept walk-ins, for double price." I grinned.  
  
"Oh.Well okay, I guess. Thanks for everything." She began floating to my door.  
  
"Hey, don't mention it. I appreciate your generous donation to the, uh, Mar's Education Fund." I opened the door and led the way out.  
  
"It seems we helped each other," she commented from behind me.  
  
"Well, I hate to break this to ya, but you helped me much more than I helped you. Honestly, I don't think there is help for you." I smiled, opening the main door, allowing my floating furry feline friend to leave. (Did you say it with me?!? ^_^)  
  
"Well, thanks for trying anyway. I did enjoy being on my own. I just missed him too much to stay gone."  
  
"That's okay, just remember the guidelines I set for future sessions," I reminded her.  
  
"I will," she responded. "Oh, good-bye and thanks."  
  
"No problem." I watched her leave. As soon as she vanished from my view I went back inside, finished my notes, and went back to the computer only to find my animal crackers had either walked away by themselves, or my baby brother had consumed every last one, and my latte was cold. Life officially sucked.  
  
Once logged back online, I opened my AOL Instant Messenger and found all my friends were now gone. "NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Well, that's another story.  
  
A/N: Sorry this session is so short, but I had company in the library for an hour and a half of my writing time and staying up until three and waking at five finally caught up to me, causing me to nap half-way through this! Not only that, but I typed most of this during work since it's the first day of finals and it's a little too late to try and learn a semester's worth of math from a tutor, so no one's in here right now. Anyway, Videl's session is scheduled next and it should be longer than this one. Thanks to all of you for reading this, now review!  
  
A special thankies to mi hermana Jadedbest for doing such an awesome job of editing this on last minute notice. I luv ya chica! *huggles* 


	9. Videl Satan

Disclaimer: Would someone please explain to me why I have to do this every chapter of every story I write? I'm really getting sick of sitting in front of the computer screen for five to fifteen minutes trying to think of a retardedly original way to say I don't own DB, DBZ, or anything else which would cause my bank account to increase through its revenues. Is this thing long enough yet?  
  
A/N: It's time for yet another retardedly hilarious chapter of Therapy. I want to thank all my reviewers for you kind words. I did have someone email me about future sessions and suggested I do one on Radditz. I just wanted to say that I didn't just ignore you. I tried to email you back, but it didn't work. -_- I'm really, really sorry about that. As for the rest of you, I love ya'll!!!! *huggles all around* Time for the chapter now. Enjoy!!!  
  
*******  
  
As you should well know by now, I almost always have a cute little story to tell at the beginning of Therapy chapters, and this one is no different, so bare with me and enjoy. Heck, you're getting two stupid stories for the price of one! Aren't I generous?  
  
Well, on this occasion, I was online late at night. Okay, so it was actually early in the morning when all the sane people of my time zone are asleep and the rest of us weirdoes are looking for ways to entertain ourselves.  
  
That night, I had company! It used to be that around one o'clock or so, all my friends went to bed. Then I made a new friend, and we can stay up until four or five sometimes, chatting! Just like me, she's totally insane, and even though we have tons in common, including our thoughts, scary that someone else out there thinks like me, I know, we still like to fight sometimes, playfully of course. Usually we fight over whether the Son or Brief family is best and since she acts a little more like Goten, she's naturally attracted to Vegeta and his family. I'm a bit more like Vegeta most of the time, so I naturally find myself attracted to the Son family, and here I go rambling again.  
  
Well, this particular morning we were arguing, as usual, and the topic at hand was Yamcha verses Tien, a surprising change from the norm. Basically, I had started it by saying Yamcha was the hottest human around and I wished he showed more skin like Tien. Well, being the argumentative type, she had to argue for Tien, even if she did agree with me. Don't ask. All my friends are just as strange. I don't like normal people. They scare me.  
  
I was in the middle of pointing out the finer points of Buu Saga Yamcha's scars, both inside and out, when someone with an oddly familiar screen name sent me a message on AOL Instant Messenger. As I chatted with them, I realized they were a patient of mine, but being the moron I am, I seem to get most of my sessions all confused until they are all this huge mass of unless information in my head, with me unable to separate it into smaller sections. So I had no idea whom I was actually conversing with at that moment.  
  
After a while, the chatter got down to business, told me they were having problems with their daughter, and asked if I would mind setting up a session for her. I asked the age of the daughter and when the chatter told me the girl was in high school, I began to wonder if I really wanted the case or not. Usually by the time a kid is in high school, they're in major trouble and are nearly impossible to help because of their obstinacy.  
  
After being told the girl's school was requesting she get psychiatric help and the parent believed I was the best hope their child had, begging me in fact, and last but most definitely not least, offering me extra cash for the job, I, against my better judgment, accepted. How many high school aged girls could it be? Bra, Pan, maybe Marron even none of which could give me too much trouble. Right?  
  
After getting what they wanted, and promising me what I wanted, fair compensation for services rendered, the chatter left me in peace to finish my argument. Of course, as fate would have it, my mother walked into the room, looked at the clock, looked at me, and asked me what time it was. When I said I wasn't sure, she told me the time and ordered me to bed. Man, I hate it when that happens.  
  
*******  
  
A few days later, I sat on the living room floor playing with my youngest brother, Matthew. Now Matthew is a cutie, and only five, but he sure loves Power Rangers, Batman (Woohoo!!! The batdude rocks!!!), and of course Dragonball Z. How could he live with me and not become obsessed?  
  
The evening found me on the living room floor, playing. We weren't playing with Batman toys, the Dragonball Z toys my other brother and I have bought him, (Coincidentally, Matthew's Gohan figure, dressed in black spandex, who came with a hovercraft, was sitting on the computer monitor, looking at me along with the Yamcha in a yellow suit Matthew had conned me into buying him shortly after Christmas. They were safe.), or his really awesome Hot Wheels cars. No, we were playing Power Rangers. Oh goody! Can you feel the sarcasm? Good.  
  
"Die you foul beast!" I called out, pressing a button on something he called an Isis Megazord, whatever that is, making something closely resembling a giraffe's head shoot out and butt the evil looking monster in front of it. Well, okay, so the evil monster was an old hairless, thanks to my other younger brother, Wade, Barbie doll I had found. You know, I still owe him for that one. Maybe I should enact my revenge soon.  
  
"No! You die!" Matthew yelled in my ear before taking a giant white Power Ranger toy and proceeding to beat the Megazord, regardless of the fact that my hands were in the way.  
  
I jerked my hands back allowing the Megazord, who was now in pieces after suffering defeat at the hands of my five-year-old brother's fiendish figures, to fall to the ground and yelled, "OUCH!!! That hurts!!!"  
  
Matthew only grinned at me. "Want me to kiss and make it better?" The little twerp seemed proud of his handy work! Oh, he was going to pay, and pay dearly.  
  
Thankfully, for him, he was saved by the bell, or the knock rather since we don't have a doorbell. Growling and cradling my injured hand, which still throbbed by the way, I let my brother live for a few more minutes while I went to answer the knock.  
  
Looking through the little diamond shaped window in the door, I looked down to see who was standing on the back porch steps, not that it did me any good since I was unfamiliar with the girl. Figuring she wasn't an ax- murderer bent on hacking my brother and I into small pieces, though at that moment, hacking him didn't sound half bad, I opened the door.  
  
"Can I help you?" I asked through the small crack.  
  
The petite, yet muscular girl nodded her head, pigtails bobbing up and down as she did. "I sure hope so. I'm here for an appointment my dad made for me," she answered with a disgusted look on her face. I don't think she was too pleased to be at my humble abode.  
  
"An appointment? What kind of appointment and with whom?" Sometimes my mother has appointments with people for various reasons. I didn't know if this young woman was here to see my mother or me.  
  
"Well, he said her name was Mar, whatever kinda name that is." Okay, this chick was on my bad side already. She didn't even have to go there. What kind of a name is Mar? Well, she hadn't even told me her name yet, but I was sure it wasn't as good as mine, so there!  
  
"And what is your name, ma'am?" I asked her in my politest voice possible, considering she had just abased my name.  
  
"Oh, I'm Videl, Videl Satan." I knew it! I knew her name didn't compare to mine! At least my last name spelled doesn't equal the Devil in English! Then again, maybe she was the daughter of the Devil. Interesting thought, especially with the look she was giving me at that moment. I think I'll look into that when I have time to waste. Okay, so I'll never get that chance, oh well.  
  
Then it hit me. I had seen a guy in the past who's last name was also Satan. Could this be his daughter? I looked at her more closely and quickly dismissed the thought as an impossibility. No way in the world could such an ugly man father such a, never mind, not a good example. Still, they looked nothing alike, not that it mattered to me. I had a session to keep and as long as I got paid, I didn't care.  
  
Giving the girl one last incredulous look, I shrugged. "Follow me. This way," I instructed as I lead her to that now both famous and infamous office/bedroom of mine we all know and love so much. "Here we are. Make yourself at home."  
  
As she seated herself on my bed, I scoured my room for yet another empty notebook. Those things sometimes get hard to find in my house, and the employees at the local dollar stores now know me by name since I seem to be buying supplies constantly.  
  
Finally, I found it! Then I sat on the other end of my bed, snatched up my pencil and wrote the date before starting my inquiry as to the nature of the visit.  
  
"In your own words, why are you here to see me?" Wait a minute. Was that a dumb request or what? I mean, who else's words was she planning on using? You know, I think I've been spending way too much time around Daddy lately. He's the one who says that all the time. I soooo need a life to get me out of the house and away from all the insanity. Then again, the computer works just great, even if it does encourage my idiocy.  
  
Videl was too busy glaring at my floor to look at me when she answered, "School."  
  
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Here we go again with the trying to be mysterious and not tell the therapist all, thing. Will they ever learn? Doubtful.  
  
"School? Is that all?" I inquired, jotting "school" in my notebook.  
  
Videl nodded. "The school sent home a letter saying they thought I should see a shrink, so here I am."  
  
"So, why are you here with untrained, unprofessional, psychotic me instead of with a real shrink with a diploma and years of experience? I just do this for kicks. Then again, the money's not bad either. Besides, the power of toying with peoples' minds and lives is also very attractive."  
  
Making a very not nice face, Videl explained, "I was sent out of class one day to talk to the school counselor, who sent a letter to my dad. The letter said I needed to get the professional help the school couldn't offer. Well, my father heard Bulma Brief say she and her family came to see you and he figured someone good enough for the Brief family was good enough for his daughter, so here I am whether I like it or not."  
  
"Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but it sounds like you don't want to be here right now," I commented softly.  
  
"Finally! You got something right!" came the procacious reply.  
  
Okay, her smart mouth was just about to get to me. Whether she wanted to be there or not, the least she could do was be halfway polite. Truth be told, I wasn't any happier about the circumstances than she was, but somehow I was managing to be polite, or I was until that point rather.  
  
Narrowing my eyes in anger, I looked up at the girl. "Look, I don't care if you want to be here or not, you will act like a civilized human being or you will get out and never come back. That would leave you to explain to your father and the school why your attitude has not changed in the slightest."  
  
Videl's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know that? I didn't tell you that was why the counselor said I needed to seek professional help."  
  
"Trust me dear, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see exactly what your problem is. I've barely known you for five minutes and I already see you as an impudent, selfish, condescending, spoiled little brat. When you walk around with your nose in the air, it doesn't take long for people to decide those things about you.  
  
"Now there must be some redeeming qualities in you, girl, or the counselor wouldn't have even bothered sending that letter to your father. Whoever that counselor is, has some degree of faith in your inner goodness, or they would have written you off as a lost cause and gone on with their lives.  
  
"That brings us to what should we do for you?" I ended my little monologue.  
  
Videl blinked. "Do you have any suggestions?"  
  
"Well, before I prescribe a treatment, I need to know exactly what the problem is. Why were you sent to the counselor to begin with, and what exactly did they say to you while you were there?"  
  
"Hmm," Videl thought back to the day. "On that particular day, this guy was really getting on my nerves. I guess he has like this crush on me or something, but he was really irritating me."  
  
"Well, that leaves the question of what you did to him."  
  
"I, uh," Videl tried to remember. "I think I had finally gotten enough and started yelling at him in class."  
  
"And what exactly did you say?" I questioned.  
  
Videl's eyes narrowed in thought. "Honestly, I don't remember. Whatever it was, it sure wasn't very nice, I gather, or they wouldn't have sent me to the counselor's office."  
  
"Right," I agreed with her. "So the teacher sent you because you were causing a disturbance in their class, which was making it difficult, if not impossible, for actual learning to take place?"  
  
"Yes, I do believe so." For some reason, Videl seemed much less hostile now than she had earlier. Maybe all she really needed was someone to listen to her, a friend so to speak. I wondered if she had any. If not, I could certainly see why. The other students must be terrified of the girl, not only because of her behavior, but she was the daughter of Hercule, World Martial Arts Champion, Savior of the World and all that crap. Were I not so tenacious she would probably have scared me, too.  
  
"Okay, now I need to know exactly what the counselor said to you while you were in their office," I told her.  
  
"Well, he didn't say much except that he had been hearing complaints about my treatment of my peers from many teachers. He said I needed to quit taking everything out on everyone else and learn to deal with it instead. That's why they wanted me to see you. To learn to deal," she expelled, looking at my flowered bedspread.  
  
"Alright then. Do you think you take everything out on other students?" We were slowly but surely making progress, but I had to know what she thought. If she remained in denial, there wasn't much I could do for her.  
  
"Sometimes...Most of the time...Yeah. I guess I just get easily irritated and kinda snap at them without actually meaning to," she revealed. This was great! She knew what she was doing and was completely honest! Maybe there was hope for her yet!  
  
"Why is it they irritate you so?"  
  
"Well, I guess it's because I'm out saving the city and keeping my grades up at the same time, and they sit around all happy without a care in the world, completely oblivious to what's really going on around them."  
  
Ah, a common problem it seemed. I guessed she was feeling under appreciated, just like my dear friend Krillin. "So, would you prefer if they gave you more recognition?"  
  
Videl's eyes widened quickly and she shook her head, "No! I get enough of that! I...I just want to be...normal, I guess."  
  
Oops, well, I guess everyone's wrong from time to time, including me. I'm not God you know. "So what you want is for them to treat you like one of them instead of an outsider because of your father's stature and your efforts to protect them?" I had to make sure I had pinpointed the source of the problem before I thought of a solution.  
  
Videl thought on that for a minute. "I suppose you're right. Every time I walk in a room, I get looks from everyone like I'm some kind of freak or something. I guess I tend to take my frustration out on others, especially this one guy in my class..."  
  
"Oh?" I inquired. "Who is this boy, and why are you so hard on him?"  
  
"His name is Son Gohan," she smiled at me, obviously infatuated with him, not that I could blame her. If I weren't his therapist...Wait, you didn't want that much information did you? "And the reason I think I'm so hard on him," she continued, "Is because he's so nice. He doesn't stare at me and I can't get over it. He doesn't treat me like a freak, he acts like I'm completely normal."  
  
"So he treats you like you wish to be treated, and you're mean to him...Great track record Videl. Ever consider this might be why people treat you strangely? I mean, if they act like you're normal, you go postal on them. Honestly, I'd rather treat you like a freak too in that case."  
  
Videl sighed and nodded. "I know..."  
  
Wow, for once I had a patient who understood what was wrong and what I was trying to say to them! This was amazing! Especially since this session had started out so terribly with my having to gripe at her for a moment before we could even get started. That usually didn't happen until the end of the session. This chick was backwards!  
  
"Alright Videl, so what do you think you should do?" I asked her. I wanted to see exactly how much this girl understood and if she was smart enough to cure herself. Then again, did I really want her to be able to cure herself? I mean, if she could cure herself, she wouldn't need me and I'd lose a source of revenue. That would suck! I need a new computer!  
  
Thinking once again, for a moment, Videl answered, "Maybe I should lay-off Gohan and try being nice to him. Then maybe everyone else would get the right idea and start treating me normal, too." She looked at me with big eyes, waiting for me to confirm or shoot down her solution.  
  
"Sounds like a plan to me," I smiled at her.  
  
Smiling back, Videl asked, "Really?!"  
  
I nodded, "Of course. Look, I think you're going to be just fine. You knew you had a problem, didn't fight me on figuring out the root cause of that problem, and you figured out your own solution. You're a very bright girl and not half bad when you quit being mean. I think you'll be alright as long as you follow through with your treatment."  
  
Videl stood, still smiling, "Thank you so much! I really appreciate all your hard work and help." She began walking toward my door. As her hand approached the knob, I smirked and spoke up.  
  
"So, when are you going to ask him out?"  
  
She froze. "What do you mean ask him out? Who are you talking about?" I could tell from the tone of her voice, she knew exactly who I was talking about.  
  
Smiling, I answered her, "Why Son Gohan of course. I think you like him. He's a sweet boy, and between the two of us, not bad looking at all." I clicked my tongue thinking about him in all his Saiyan glory. Why does it have to be unethical to date your patients? Then again, we didn't have to date to do what I wanted. There I go giving away too much information again. Sorry.  
  
Turning around blushing profusely Videl seemed an altogether different girl. "Well, I guess he isn't that bad..."  
  
Man, did she have it bad for him or what?!? I decided then and there, if I couldn't have him, I was going to do everything I could to make sure she got him. He deserved someone with an iota of brains, instead of the morons I usually dealt with on a regular basis.  
  
"Just ask him out sometime. Unless he asks you out first that is," I winked at her.  
  
Catching my meaning, her smile broadened. "You really think he might?!?"  
  
I shrugged. "Only time will tell, but I suppose you have as good a chance as any, and more than most if you're cruel to him on a daily basis and he keeps coming back. He's a pretty good friend and must really think highly of you."  
  
Videl nodded her head. "That he is." She seemed hesitant to leave now, but as I looked at my clock, I saw it was time she headed out. I had places to go, things to do, and people to see, namely a really hot elf named Legolas on a huge screen at the cheap theatre in a neighboring town.  
  
"Look, I'd love to sit and chat with you all day, but I promised I'd take my brother to see The Lord Of The Rings tonight, and if I don't start getting ready now, there's no way in heck I'll make it in time." I stood, and crossing the room, opened the door for her.  
  
Videl smiled at me. "Thanks again for all your help, and that is a good movie, so I won't stand in your way. I guess I'll be seeing you."  
  
I smiled at her, "No offense, but I hope not."  
  
She laughed. "I guess not. Well, I can show myself out. Have a nice time." She waved and started down the hall.  
  
Smiling, I waved back to her and closed my door as she entered the living room and rounded the corner to vanish from my sight. Turning back to her notebook, I made careful note of her crush on Gohan and the treatment she had so kindly thought of for herself. Then closing the notebook, and placing it on it's shelf on my bookcase, instead of just throwing it on the floor like normal, I started digging through my closet for something sexy to wear. Hey, I wanted to look good for that elf. ^_~  
  
A/N: Okay, this chapter so did not turn out like I had planned. *sigh* But I guess that's okay. The next chapter on the list in Mirai Trunks. *waits for cheers to die down* Don't get too excited though because I'm still having trouble picturing it in my mind and really have no idea where it's going. Go figure. Well, as always thanks for reading, and please leave a review. Oh, and I'm still accepting suggestions for future chapters, but please leave more than just the name of the person you want me to deal with. I've had requests for Radditz and Goten, but I have no idea what to do with them! Any ideas or suggestions are always welcome. Enough of that, now hit that little review button and "make my day." *runs off to finish her movie* 


	10. Mirai Trunks

Disclaimer: *Shrugs* I suppose you just never know....  
  
A/N: I was thinking the other day about how in another week or so, this will be the only fic still going since shortly after I started posting. I just want to take this moment to tell all of you how much I appreciate the support and to tell you about my issues with meat loaf. What is up with meat loaf? It's meat, but it's a loaf. But a loaf is bread. But it's still a loaf. It's just...well...it's just not right. That's all. Meat loaf is of the devil and that's all I have to say on the subject. ^_^ Oh! Be sure to enjoy this chapter. It was a long time in coming, I know.  
  
*******  
  
Well, it had been another long day. I had just recently been hired by my college as an official tutor, like they thought I was smart or something. Anyway, not only that, but right about the time I had gotten comfortable with my work, I was given the Friday shift. Now, at my college, we don't have regular classes on Fridays. No, Fridays are for classes that meet only once a week, and they were let out by noon. Therefore, I was let go at noon as well. No big, except I had to come in at eight. And since no one had liked the previous tutor, it ended up that I had nothing to do but study, read, or write fics for four whole hours a week when I could have been sleeping, recovering from staying on the computer until two a.m. after having sparred for an hour in karate class the night before. Am I complaining? You bet I am. Then again, I was getting paid.  
  
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. By the time I had gotten home, I was exhausted. I drug myself into the house, feeling absolutely terrible because I had missed DBZ that day. To ease the pain of my loss, I got online. Of course, getting online always cheers me.  
  
I was surfing away, dreaming of a nap, when my bestest chica, Jadedbest, got online. I told her I had had a very traumatizing experience that day and she laughed at me. I couldn't believe it! My chica was laughing at my anguish! When I finally got her calmed down enough to realize the seriousness of my situation, she told me to get offline so she could call and get the story straight from my mouth with all the emotions contained therein.  
  
Sighing, I got offline, went to my room, and grabbed up the cordless phone before lying on my bed. I sure had been looking forward to that nap. Now it seemed it would never come to be. Then again, how many naps have I actually gotten since you started reading this crazy little fic?  
  
I waited and waited, and before I knew it, I had wandered off to Dreamland. Just as I was dreaming about what I would let Kenshin do to me with that really amazing "sword" of his, the phone rang. Just my luck....  
  
Basically I answered it and started telling my long and woeful tale. "Yeah, well, when I went out to the car, I opened the door, put my junk in the passenger's seat and got in. While I was getting everything situated beside me, I turned to close the door, and the key...went bye-bye," I explained.  
  
"In your Dad's newest Altima?!" she questioned unbelievingly.  
  
"Pretty much," I sighed heavily. "Of all the things to happen. It had to be me to lose the key in the emergency brake's housing." I chuckled humorlessly. "At least if I had to lose the key, I did a good job. I've never heard of someone doing that one before. Maybe it's an original or something."  
  
"Maybe," she commented. "So you were stuck at school how long?"  
  
"I got off at noon, lost the key around 12:10 and left a little after five. All the while it was freezing cold outside and now I-...I-..." I sneezed. "I think I have a cold."  
  
"My poor chica!" Well, at least she was sympathetic. Then again, was that snickering I heard in the background while I was talking? Just wait until she told me about her next bad day. I'll get even then. Just watch and see.  
  
"So I missed DBZ, lost the key to the car, got Mom really pissed off at me, I know Dad's going to kill me, and to top it all off, in the end I had to have the car towed. And now I have to pay for that too. Is it just me or does life really suck right now?" I questioned, hoping she might have some words of wisdom to lift my spirits.  
  
"Yeah, pretty much," Jadedbest concurred.  
  
"Hey! You're not supposed to agree with me!" I barked into the phone. Doesn't she know how this best friend thing works?! When I'm upset and say things like "life sucks" she's supposed to disagree with me and tell me no matter what, I'm a wonderful person and things will eventually work out for me in the end. That's how it's supposed to go! Maybe I should resend her that copy of the "Best Friends" memo.  
  
"Uh...sorry," she offered.  
  
I frowned at the wall. That was just wrong. I sighed loudly. "Some great help you are," I mumbled into the phone as my eyes drifted over the pictures covering my closet door.  
  
"Oh! Did I tell you-" she started in on some story about her day. Honestly, I tuned her out. What did I care that she had a good day? Mine had totally stunk. And she had laughed at me. That was just wrong. So wrong.  
  
Adding in the appropriate "Uh huh", "Yeah" and "I completely agree" in all the right places, I began daydreaming as the voice in my ear droned on and on about how much she hated her brother at that moment, like that was something new or something.  
  
When I tuned back into her story, she was getting to the part where her mom was yelling at her brother for something. Again.  
  
Just as my dark mood was lifting, listening to her hilarious account of her mom's side of the argument, I heard a knock at my bedroom door.  
  
Sighing loudly, I pulled the phone from my mouth and yelled, "What do you want?!" No reply sounded, save that of a soft knock once again.  
  
I frowned at the door. I knew that wasn't my baby brother. He wasn't tall enough to knock that high, yet Mom never knocked in that style. The only people I knew who knocked on my door in that fashion were my father and Amanda, my other best friend. Dad was at work, and Amanda shouldn't be over. Right?  
  
"Hang on," I requested into the phone as I walked to the door to open it. Turning the knob with my left hand, the phone in my right, I opened it slightly to see who was on the other side.  
  
Just a small peek was all I needed as I slammed the door in the person's face and lifted the phone back to my ear. "Ohmigod! It's Trunks! Mirai Trunks is here!" I squealed into Jadedbest's ear.  
  
Of course she had to reply. "Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, OHMIGOSH!!!" she yelled at deafening decibels. "You're kidding me, right?!"  
  
"No, chica," I replied. "No kidding. He's standing right outside my bedroom door right now!"  
  
I could hear her excitement through the line. "He's still outside your door? Are you mad?! Let him in!"  
  
After a moment of processing that, I replied, "Uh...yeah.... Right! I should let him in! And you need to go now. Sorry chica, I'll fill you in later. Love you and byes!" As I pulled the phone away from my ear, I heard her say something about gas but paid her no mind as I opened the door again, blushing at my earlier comments. He had to have heard my freak session through the paper-thin door.  
  
"Hi," I started. "My name is Mar and I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting." I opened the door wide. "Would you like a seat?" I motioned toward the bed.  
  
Trunks smiled and nodded his head as he made his way over to the bed and took his seat. I, of course, followed him and took a seat beside him. Mirai Trunks was on my bed, and I was there beside him. We were on my bed at the same time! Hmm...could this get any better? "So, why are you here? Is there something I can do for you?" I asked him innocently. With a guy this hot, I could think of quite a few things I'd be willing to do to help him. Bad Mar! I really do need to work on how much of my thoughts I share with others....  
  
"Well," Trunks started, giving me a small smile. "As you can probably guess, I'm Mirai Trunks." I nodded. I wasn't about to interrupt him, not when I could be listening to that soft, raspy voice drawl out...well, pretty much anything he liked. "And I came back to help everyone fight against Cell. Dad and I are scheduled to go into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber to train tomorrow, but he and Mom both thought coming to see you first would do me a lot of good. Something about clearing my mind of my worries and guilt so I could focus on my training." He shrugged. "I don't exactly get it, but I came anyway."  
  
"I see," I stated simply. Somehow I was enjoying just watching him. Something about that simple act made my entire car ordeal vanish from my mind completely as his gentle voice soothed my frustration-frayed nerves. "So, you're Mirai Trunks, eh?"  
  
Trunks nodded. "Yeah, that's me. I'm sure you know the chibi...." Was that said with a little dread? Was he ashamed to admit to that adorable child being his younger self? Naw, couldn't be. It wasn't like the child was pure evil or anything. He had Bulma's genes in him, which would hopefully tone down his father's, or better yet, totally bury them except in his looks.  
  
I was feeling generous, so I decided I would actually try my best to help this young man who was obviously in dire need of my expertise, even if he was a walk-in, and you know how I feel about walk-ins. I quickly came up with a line of thought that would hopefully help me with in getting his problem out in the open. The quicker I helped him resolve whatever childhood issues he had, the sooner we could move on to other things. Like getting to know each other better.... Sorry, I just keep giving you way too much information. Don't I?  
  
"Well, let's start with you telling me a little more about what it's like for you back home. What is your world like?" I suggested. Now, I had seen, and even own, the video "The History Of Trunks", which showed exactly what life was like in the Mirai timeline. My reasons for asking him were twofold though. First, I wanted to hear it all through his eyes. I needed to know how he felt about things. That might give me a clue as to his real problem and/or how to help him. The second, well, the more I made him talk, the longer he was going to stay at my house...in my room...on my bed. Hmm...I just sighed at the thought as I'm typing this encounter up. Is that a bad thing?  
  
"All right. I can do that," Trunks agreed. He was going to do it! Oh, sorry...getting carried away again.  
  
"Back home things are pretty different. Most of the Z-senshi died long before my memory. Mom says when the androids came they killed everyone from Dad to Yamcha and Krillin. Goku died of that heart virus in my timeline, so he wasn't there to stop those monsters." He took a deep breath. This young man certainly was very emotional. I frowned at the thought. He wasn't gay.... Was he?  
  
I choose that moment to interrupt. "So, let me get this straight. All the Z-fighters are dead. Correct?"  
  
"Correct."  
  
"Okay," I paused. "If that's the case, how did you ever learn things like flying and ki control, things no human other than Goku's friends knew? That doesn't make any sense whatsoever."  
  
"Oh...well, not everyone died," he explained. "Chi-Chi refused to let Gohan fight the Androids while he was a child. Instead, he trained very hard and waited for the day when he would be as strong as his father had been. Strong enough to defeat them. He was the only one left. Well, he and myself that is. We were all that was left over of the group who had defeated Frieza.... We were the Earth's last hope," he added in sadly.  
  
I lifted a brow. "Okay...so what happened? Was he successful? Did he defeat them?"  
  
Trunks sadly raised his cornflower eyes to mine and shook his head. "No. He wasn't strong enough. He tried, but in the end..." he let his sentence hang. I knew what had happened and had a very good idea how he felt about it all. He had been really close to Gohan. Poor guy.  
  
Picking back up, Trunks continued his yarn with, "Gohan fought them for a long time before I was thirteen and decided to join him. He and Mom tried to make me stop, but I just couldn't. I could not just sit back and watch while those atrocious bots from hell ravaged my home. I had to do something. I had to help. I knew somehow my fighting could make the difference, swing the pendulum of luck in our favor." He took a shuddery breath. "I was young and a fool. I only ended up causing the death of my sensei and best friend. Our last hope."  
  
I had seen the movie. Yeah, Trunks had disobeyed Gohan and gotten him hurt, but it had been Gohan's decision to face the Androids again before being fully healed. What's more, it was Gohan's choice to go without Trunks. Gohan had sacrificed himself. No one was to blame. He knew he was going to his death and had met it head-on. No way was this poor lad to blame. Yet his heart was filled with self-blame.  
  
"Trunks, can you continue?" I asked him after his pause. I had noticed he was trying his best to pull himself back together and had given him ample time to do so. Now it was time for him to continue. On with the story.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I have no choice," Trunks responded. Now there was a go-getter. "Anyway, with Dad gone, having been defeated long ago, the main reason behind my having grown so close to Gohan to begin with, and then he being...murdered...I was alone. I had to fight and the Androids somehow. I had to free the earth, and I had to keep such a tragedy like them from happening to anyone else. I was lost and alone. I knew I hadn't a chance in HFIL at beating them in my state, a fact my mother well recognized, so I stayed at home and hide like a dog with my tail between my legs until I was old enough and strong enough to fight.  
  
"Finally I was sixteen and fully grown. I had been hiding in the shadows too long, and my people needed me. So I left the safety of the ruined Capsule Corps building and flew out to meet the abominations head- on, only to discover that while I might be old enough, I was no where near strong enough to do more than annoy them. I wasn't even as strong as Gohan had been when he had lost his life. Through some miracle, I survived, and when I had finished healing, I agreed to help Mom with her plan."  
  
I nodded my head slightly, eyes glued on those luscious lips of his. I mean, I was hooked on his story and listening closely, trying to dredge out any information that might later prove useful in helping this young man. Oh, who am I kidding? I was thinking about how great it would be to attack him right then and there. To just climb in his lap, passionately kiss those lips, and do things to him that would make him forget all about that nasty ol' world he was from. My biggest desire was to take care of him, in more ways than one. Happy now? Now you know the truth. But who out there can really blame me? Now, maybe that I've gotten that out of my system I can finish out my story without it gnawing at the back of my consciousness. Who am I kidding? That's a lost cause, kinda like the one of getting over calling Krillin short. There is no end. So, now - as before - on with the story.  
  
"So, what was your mom's great scheme?" I asked. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew what it had been. I have seen the movie at least a hundred times after all. It was just that after seeing Gohan die, I had always been too emotional to comprehend the ending. Hmm...I wonder if that's a bad thing....  
  
"Well," Trunks picked back up. "She had been working for years on a time machine. She wanted one of us to travel back in time and give Goku an antidote she had made for the heart virus that had killed him in our time. We knew it wouldn't change anything for us, but it would help all our friends and loved ones, including my father, Gohan, and ourselves in another timeline. Finally, I was strong enough and went back to carry out my mission, killing Frieza in the process. I finally got to see my sensei again, even if he was just a kid.  
  
"After carrying out my task, I went back home for a time before I traveled back to see my friends. That pretty much brings us up to now," he looked at me, waiting for my analysis. "Now I'm sitting here with you before going off to train for the fight against Cell. And I had thought the Androids were bad news...."  
  
In a deep trance, I nodded, eliciting a curiously raised brow from the young man. Sorry, but it was all I could do at the moment. I was caught between my fantasies of him and trying to figure out what to say. I had a pretty good idea of why he was here. He had guilt issues. Finally I raised my eyes to his and gave a small smile, "Very well, put. You're a pretty good story-teller."  
  
"Thank you," Trunks responded with a slight blush on his cheeks. Oo! He was just as shy and emotional in real life as the portrayal of him on that movie! How adorable! I just wanted to eat him up! Seriously!  
  
"So, do you know why everyone wanted me to come here and talk to you?" Trunks questioned.  
  
Frowning in thought for a moment, (Don't forget that really does hurt my poor wittle head.) I answered him. "I think so. Trunks, you have a few issues you need to deal with before you're ready to train and do battle with Cell. You have too much emotional baggage to fully concentrate on training to become an effective warrior in the fight. Your mother and father realized this. That is why they sent you to me."  
  
"Oh?" he questioned with that cutely lifted brow of his. "Would you care to explain?"  
  
"Sure thing," I nodded in response. "The first word we need to discuss is 'fault'. Therein lies the secret to most of your baggage. You feel responsible for Gohan's death, a death executed by two androids, not you. You did not - I repeat, DID NOT - cause Gohan's demise. He and he alone was responsible for his destiny. Gohan knew when he took his father's place as the Earth's protector, that it could very well cost him his life. He was willing to pay that price for you and everyone else he loved. Gohan died doing what was right. He went down fighting. He died with honor," I stopped for effect. I wanted that last bit to sink into the thick-skulled Saiyan's head before I continued.  
  
"Instead of blaming yourself for his death, maybe you should try a more optimistic approach," I suggested. "Gohan was able to die a warriors' death. No warrior truly wants to grow old and fade away into nothing, to be come weak and unable to do anything to help. Instead of becoming old and decrepit, unable to even bathe himself, Gohan was able to give all he had for you, his family. His last act was nothing less than a testament to his unwavering love and devotion to you. It was a memorial, a monumental sacrifice. Be glad he was given that chance to prove it to you all. Be glad he was willing to fight at all. He didn't have to. No one made him.  
  
"Take his death, and your father's, and decide that you will not fall so easily. Use them as inspiration. Learn from their mistakes and use that knowledge to become the warrior they never had the chance to be. Make them proud. Make yourself a monument to them as they made themselves a monument to you."  
  
I took this chance to climb off my soapbox and wait Trunks out. During my long sermon, he had begun crying and was trying desperately to get his emotions under control at that moment. I knew I had touched a nerve. Then again, that was exactly what my speech had been meant for. I had told him things he needed to hear. He needed to know he was not to blame and also some encouragement to grow and reach so he might achieve more than any before him in his timeline had. Deep down, he had the potential. He was, after all, Vegeta's son.  
  
Do you guys realize this is the most serious I've ever been during a session? Well, I thought I'd make an entire little paragraph to point that out to you. Well, enjoy the rest of the chapter. You know there has to be some more humor out there somewhere in this. Right? Right. Otherwise you wouldn't still be reading this, my humor fic.  
  
Trunks was still a sniffling mess. With a sympathetic sigh, I reached over to my nightstand and picked up the roll of toilet paper I keep there. (It's for make-up and cleaning. Sheesh people! I do have a bathroom you know!) Pulling a few sheets off, I handed them to the young man to wipe his eyes. Gotta love toilet paper. It's the greatest.  
  
After wiping his face and blowing his nose, Trunks sheepishly raised his eyes to mine. "You must think I'm a crybaby now...."  
  
I shook my head. "No. I don't think you're a crybaby 'now.' I knew you were a crybaby before this last little episode. But I won't hold it against you, so don't you worry."  
  
Trunks gave me a thankful smile and chuckled. "I don't know whether to be relieved or offended."  
  
I shrugged. "Whichever. I'm always really good with the cut-downs and whatnot. Just anytime you need someone to kick you in the balls, let me know. I'll be more than happy to do it."  
  
Finally, Trunks gave me a humored smile. I just hate seeing people cry. That's why I had been so 'mean'. "All right, hippiechick. Will do," he confirmed.  
  
"Back to business," I started again. "I basically have two things to tell you. The first is 'stop being so hard on yourself.' It doesn't do a thing for you to put the world on your shoulders. Trust me, you can't carry it all by yourself. If you try, you'll be eaten alive by guilt. [censored ^_^] happens. You just have to learn to deal with it."  
  
Trunks was nodding his understanding and agreement. He wasn't going to fight me. I was certainly thankful for the small blessings in life. I just love it when patients let me be the therapist and listen to my advice. More importantly, I like it when they do as I say. Unfortunately, this case looked like that latter would be the difficult part. I know this because I have a tendency to try and carry it all too. Not a good habit.  
  
"The second thing I want you to think on can be summed up in a single word." I paused for effect. "Optimism. Stop looking at all the bad around you, and begin looking, actively searching for the good. Sure, you lost Vegeta, your father, and Gohan, but you had the most amazing father figure imaginable in Gohan, no matter how short a time. And don't forget you still have your mother, who you happen to be very close to. Do you really think you'd be so close to her had the world not gone mad? I doubt it. You'd have been more worried about training and other Saiyan things.  
  
"Not only do you have those things to be thankful for, but you were allowed the opportunity to change the future for the people you care for most. Very few people are ever allowed that chance. While in this new timeline, you have made new friends and gotten reacquainted with old ones. This is a blessing indeed. Plus to top it all off, you got to kill Frieza. Good work, Trunks," I finished off my second speech of the day. I seem to be on a roll. Then again, that new soapbox I borrowed from my father is pretty awesome. It gives a whole new perspective on the world.  
  
Slowly, Trunks nodded his head again. "I think I understand what you mean," he spoke softly, though his tone and face both spoke volumes to his comprehension of my diagnosis and treatment. He got it.  
  
"So...you going to sit here all day or get yourself to some training?" I asked the frozen Trunks. Sometimes thinking can be a bad thing. In this case, he didn't need to dwell on my words too long immediately. No, they would be much more effective if he would think on small portions of my wisdom for short periods of time over the next few days, taking their lessons to heart. That would be much more beneficial.  
  
Trunks smiled at me. "No, I guess not. I probably should be on my way." He stood and stretched his arms over his head, pulling his shirt taunt over rippling abs, taunting me. That is so not right. It's just not fair when you're stuck with a really hot guy you'd love to jump, and you can't because you know you'd feel somewhat guilty later. Well, I figured I'd just wait for the spoiled, chibi version to grow up. He would be a good target. Open Trunks season. I'm still grinning at that thought.  
  
I rose to stand beside the lavender-haired prince. "Well, it was very nice meeting you. I would say 'I hope you come back,' but that might be misconstrued into something not so good."  
  
"I know what you mean," Trunks replied with a chuckle. "Well, I guess I should be on my way. I have lots of training, tons of preparations for Cell, and very little time to get it all together."  
  
"I totally understand," I stated as we walked through my home to the back door. "I wish you the best of luck." I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, Trunks right behind me.  
  
"Thank you. I'm sure we'll need it," Trunks muttered.  
  
I gave him my best encouraging smile. "Luck has nothing to do with it. You got skillz."  
  
Trunks chuckled and shook his head at my stupidity. "Not yet. Gotta train with Dad for those."  
  
"Okay," I stood uncomfortably beside him, not knowing what to say or do. Finally I bit my lip in determination and just did the thing I'd had on my mind for a while. I hugged him. "Go get 'em," I encouraged as I released him, after a very long, extremely joyous ten minutes I might add.  
  
Trunks nodded again. "All right. Goodbye" He then turned his head to the sky and began lifting off the ground. When at a good height, he turned, waved and began heading for wherever he was supposed to be.  
  
"TRUNKS!!!!!" a very loud voice called as a car door slammed in my drive. Who on earth knew Trunks was at my house and would scream out his name upon touching the ground? As the girl rounded the corner of my home, running of course, I knew who it was.  
  
"Jadedbest!!!" I called out a greeting, only to have her run straight past me to stare at the Trunks vanishing from sight.  
  
"TRUNKS!!!!! COME BACK!!!!!!" she wailed in misery as he disappeared from view completely.  
  
I shook my head. That truly was sad. Utterly pathetic.  
  
Realizing Trunks was out of sight and not turning back, Jadedbest turned her attention on me, her eyes narrowed. "How could you just let him get away like that?!"  
  
"Uh..." I really didn't know what to say. How was this my fault again? "Jadedbest, I didn't even know you were coming. You live a million miles from here. How was I to know you'd show up at my house? You've never come visit before. I didn't know you even knew where I lived. That map wasn't exactly detailed."  
  
"It's Trunks!" she replied like that should clarify everything for me.  
  
"Yes...I do realize that," I sighed. I could tell from the look in her eyes, it was a lost cause. I hadn't a snowball's chance at getting through to her. I also happened to realize at that moment it happened to be rather cold outside and I was shivering. I had been sneezing earlier and felt another round coming on.  
  
"Jadedbest." I put my arm around her shoulders. "Let's go inside and get ourselves something to drink. Trunks is gone and not coming back for a while. The next time he calls in to make an appointment, I'll be sure to let you know."  
  
"You better," she threatened me in reply. I have the most loving friends on Earth. You just don't know.  
  
"All right. Now let's go. It's cold out here, I'm thirsty, and I want to hear all about your trip down here, especially how you found my house. No one can find my house." I opened the back door for her and gently shoved her inside, closing it behind myself when I followed, sneezing again as I did. This cold was going to be with me for a while. I just knew it.  
  
Well, that's just about it. Needless to say, I'm rather glad Jadedbest was a little late. I mean, Mirai Trunks had enough problems without adding on a crazed fan that would more than happily become his stalker if I let her. The poor dear. He just wasn't in the emotional state to deal with that. Then again, I don't think anyone is....  
  
*******  
  
A/N: So, did you like it? What did you all think about my insane friends? Oh, Jadedbest in this story is the same as on this site. She's crazy! Then again, aren't all my friends? Check back next time for another session. I do have more planned. ^_^ Laterz! Oh! And REVIEW!!!!!! 


	11. The GREAT Hercule Satan

Disclaimer: You know what? I really don't care. Sue me for all I care. You can have all my debts.  
  
A/N: If you haven't noticed, someone over here has been a very busy beaver. It took me quite a bit longer than normal to get this written to begin with and even longer to get it edited because all my normal betas are out of commission for the time being. Hopefully things will get better though and updates will come quicker. Basically, gomen. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Read on.  
  
Is it just me or are almost all my days at school very trying and tiring? Well, this story starts slightly differently. It was in the middle of the dog days of summer. Temperatures were soaring in excess of one hundred degrees daily, and with the humidity at ninety-five percent, it was absolutely miserable. That's why I was staying indoors. I seriously don't know how I'd make it living in the south without air conditioning.  
  
I was just hanging out in my room, sitting on my bed with my feet propped up on my box fan, letting the cool air blow up my shorts, when the phone rang. Let's just say I was not exactly pleased with having to move from my comfort just to answer the stupid idiot machine. Finally, along the time it gave the third ring, I decided it wouldn't kill me to do without the fan for two seconds, and grabbed the phone from its cradle.  
  
"Hello?" I spoke into the receiver as I moved back into my original position and muted the television. This had best be good.  
  
"Ms. Hippiechic?" a female voice questioned from the other end of the line.  
  
I frowned a little. When people call looking for me and I don't recognize their voice, it usually means trouble. I hate getting calls from telemarketers. Do I look like I have money to you? "Yes," I responded hesitantly. "How may I help you?"  
  
The lady's voice seemed to brighten a little knowing she had the right number. "Hello, my name is Debbie Turner, and I'm calling on the behalf of Mr. Hercule Satan."  
  
I just blinked. I mean, what else could I be expected to do? No, it wasn't that the "great Hercule" was calling that threw me for a loop. Actually it was the thought of dealing that glory hog over the phone or, Lord forbid, face to face. Even on TV he had always seemed to be a bit.odd. Then after talking to the Z-Senshi.. Okay, so I'm trying to be nice. It's a new thing with me. It probably won't last even this entire chapter, but I'm going to go for it anyway.  
  
Moving on, I decided to pursue this little matter farther. "Is there something I can do for you?"  
  
"Yes. In fact, you can," Ms. Debbie informed me. Grrreat, community service. Gotta love it.  
  
"Well."I prompted her for a response of some sort.  
  
"Oh, sorry about that." She seemed distracted. "I just needed to make an appointment for my boss. He heard about your talent and would like a free consultation."  
  
I nearly spit out the raspberry Kool-Aide I was drinking at that one. "Did you say free?" I choked out.  
  
"Why, yes. Of course," came her cool reply.  
  
"Look," I started. "Tell your boss I'd be more than happy to listen to him tell me how hard it is to be rich and famous and adored by the masses, but the word 'free' is not in my vocabulary. I have classes coming up in the fall at a private university and they're not going to be cheap."  
  
"Oh.. Well, I understand. Please hold?"  
  
I sighed. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." I was put on hold and went back to focusing on smearing the sweat from my glass across my forehead before setting it down and grabbing my squirting water bottle. A refreshing mist of water was just what I needed.  
  
Finally Ms. Debbie came back to me. There's nothing like having someone call you and then ask if you mind being put on hold. "I spoke with Mr. Satan, and he agreed to whatever you normally charge. It will be no problem."  
  
"All right. That's great." I frowned. Now is the time when I'd normally get my appointment book and find an opening for him. That day was just simply too hot, so I laid back on my bed and looked at my calendar upside down to find an opening. "How about next Tuesday at around four? Is he free then?"  
  
Ms. Debbie was silent for a moment before speaking to me again. "Yes. That works quite well for Mr. Satan. He will be most happy that he now has an appointment. Thank you very much."  
  
"You're welcome, I suppose," I replied. "Have a nice day."  
  
"Oh, you too, ma'am," Debbie said happily as she hung up on her end. Sighing, I followed suit and turned the TV back up to hear my program, Trading Spaces. I am so into that show!  
  
Tuesday was yet another long, hot, tiring day. I had been in bed until around two when my baby brother had once again decided it was time for me to get out of bed and pay him some attention. He had crawled up in the bed with me and kissed my cheek softly before punching me in my stomach and laughing like a maniac. He's so mean!  
  
Finally I had simply groaned and gotten out of bed to make myself some breakfast. There's nothing like a pan of chocolate chip muffins to wake a person up first thing in the morn.err.afternoon. C'mon. What did you really expect from me? I'm lazy and darn proud of it.  
  
After "breakfast" I had sat down on the couch and let my baby brother attack me repeatedly, each time, pushing him down on his little butt and laughing. You'd think he'd figure it out eventually. If every time he charged me he landed on his butt, you'd think he'd finally get it through his head that he's not going to win the fight. Most kids would. Then again, my little brother is a very unique person indeed. God, I love him, every obstinate little cell.  
  
As I was countering yet another bombardment of punches and kicks, trying to block them as best I could to show him halfway decent techniques, my mother left the kitchen, heading to the laundry room. I didn't think anything of it. Her leaving me alone with the little monster while she goes outside to take a break is nothing new. She has the best timing. She always waits until I've had just about enough of playing with him, and then she makes her grand escape so that when I am finished, I look around for my salvation and she's no where to be seen.  
  
This time though, she returned a few moments later, and instead of going back to her hidey-hole in the kitchen, she entered the living room and spoke to me. "Mar, there's someone at the door to see you. A man."  
  
At first I just looked up at her blankly while my brother punched me about a dozen times. Then it finally sank in. She wanted me to go answer the door for myself. Sighing, I pushed my brother away from me and to the floor, and struggling to my feet, I went to the back door where I was met by a strange looking man in a brown gi top and white pants. What I think I found the oddest about him though was his hair. This guy was white, and yet he had a fro bigger than Justin Timberlake. (One moment please while I shudder at the horror that is/was N'Stink...Sync. Whatever.)  
  
"Can I help you?" I asked him. Why is it I seem to be helping people so much lately? I think I need to work on that, or at least raise my rates. Decisions, decisions.  
  
The man grinned at me and struck a ridiculous pose I can only assume was meant to impress. "I am The Great," he changed poses to show his biceps, "Hercule!"  
  
I blinked at him. How can one person contain so much stupidity in their being? This guy was unbelievable. I had never thought anyone could surpass the stupidity of The Great Saiyaman. Then again, you never know with people. First impressions can sometimes be deceiving. There was this one time.. Never mind, most first impressions are right on when it comes to my patients. They're all friggin' nuts.  
  
"Would you, uh, like to come in?" I asked him in an attempt to be hospitable. He was paying my salary after all and sweating like a pig. Then again, with the prices I charged Bulma every time she and Vegeta have a fight, especially as often as those are sometimes, I could easily get away with not charging anyone else. Of course Hercule had money to spare too, and I had the feeling that dealing with him would require immense recompense on his part.  
  
Hercule cocked his head to the side before shrugging. "Sure."  
  
I opened the door and stepped back inside. If he followed me, great. If not, it sounded like he would have an unresolved personal problem. Luckily for him, less so for me, he chose to trail me into my home and back toward my office as I warded off my brother along the way. The kid certainly was in a clingy mood that day.  
  
When we got back to my room, I frowned. I hadn't thought to prepare a notebook for the occasion and to be honest, I was out. So many patients.. Anyway, so I just picked up my Sacred Notebook and after freeing a single sheet of notebook paper, I set it aside and prepared to take notes on the session.  
  
"So, Mr. Satan," I began.  
  
"The Great Hercule!" he interrupted me as I blinked at him. No one dares to interrupt me, not even Vegeta. We were going to have a problem.  
  
Frowning, I started again. "Hercule-"  
  
"The GREAT Hercule!" he emphasized for me as I growled lightly, sending a decidedly menacing glare in his direction.  
  
"HERCULE," I spoke in warning. I guess he picked up on it, because he didn't interrupt again to give me his title. I couldn't help but smirk a little. At that point I knew the stories I had heard were correct. Hercule really was nothing more than a coward. I almost chuckled evilly to myself at the realization. It would be so easy to intimidate him, make him cower.. Man, now I'm having evil thoughts again. Once again, I'll have to work on that.  
  
"Now, your secretary never told me exactly why you wanted to schedule this appointment. Usually I prefer to know what the issue is so I can do research if needed, but I'll make an exception this time. So tell me what it is you have found so wrong in your life that you need my assistance," I explained sweetly.  
  
Hercule blinked at me.  
  
I waited.and waited.and waited. "Uh.earth to Hercule. Come in Hercule." I waved my hand in front of his face and finally he seemed to come back our dear planet and looked at me. "Why did you want to see me? What life altering changes do you hope I can assist you in making?"  
  
"I.well.uh," Hercule stammered nervously in Son fashion before getting back into character. "I don't have a problem! The Great Hercule doesn't have any silly little mental problems!"  
  
Please excuse me for rolling my eyes, but hello! Who calls a therapist but people with issues? And on top of that, we're talking about Hercule! Don't even get me started on nutcases there's too much there in his case.  
  
Using my 'speaking to a small child yet about to lose my patience' voice, I addressed Hercule in an attempt to clarify what was going on. "Hercule, if you don't have at least one issue, why did you request an appointment with me?"  
  
"I.uh.well," Hercule's eyes darted around nervously. Finally he sighed and quietly answered me in a solemn tone. "I didn't make it because of a problem.."  
  
"Really?!" I asked caustically. "I'm so glad you took the time to clear everything up." Needless to say, I was not pleased.  
  
Hercule winced at the bitter tone and sighed dejectedly.  
  
The look on his face was so pathetic I couldn't remain angry at him. "All right Hercule. Tell me the reason behind your appointment," I suggested kindly, even though if felt as though I might die, or more likely, kill him.  
  
Looking up at me with sad brown eyes, Hercule sighed. "The real reason.. The real reason I made the appointment is.. Do you know the Briefs?"  
  
I blinked, completely lost. What did that have to do with his making an appointment with me?  
  
"Well, yes," I ventured. "I know exactly who the Briefs are."  
  
Hercule peered into my eyes and in an honest tone continued. "I made an appointment because of them. I overheard Bulma talking at a party about you and your work."  
  
"Okay. So you were indirectly referred to me by one of my patients. What's the big deal? I still need to know your issue if you expect me to help you," I explained patiently, though my patience was beginning to run thin in a major way. I only have so much for a day and after playing with my rambunctious brother, Hercule was pushing my limits.  
  
"I.don't have an issue," he confessed. "I didn't come to you looking for help."  
  
"Then why did you make an appointment costing you a pretty penny, Hercule?" I was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another. He wasn't going to keep me in the dark. There had to be a reason, and I was going to find it. He wasn't going to pay for my services and then sit in my room and annoy me for an hour just so he could leave with unresolved issues and have to come back for a follow up visit. No way.  
  
"I did it because the Briefs use you. That's why," Hercule explained again as though he was speaking to a simpleton and this was the easiest concept on earth. Kinda like 'what goes up must come down', or something just as simple.  
  
I just simply blinked at him for a moment before it dawned on me what he was trying to say in so many words. "You made an appointment with me for popularity reasons? Am I hearing you right?"  
  
A thoughtful expression crossed Hercule's face (I know, it's hard to picture, so just bear with me.), and then he nodded slowly. "I guess you're right. That was the reason."  
  
"Do you have any idea how disturbed that is? You made an appointment with an expensive therapist for no real reason, simply so you could talk about it at parties and increase your popularity.. Well, at least now we have an issue to discuss." I smiled at him proudly. "Way to go Hercule! That's a pretty good one, too."  
  
Hercule nodded to me as though he agreed. "Thank you, I think.. Now what are you going to do about it?"  
  
I couldn't help chuckling at the expression on his face. The "Great" Hercule who "saved us all from Cell" looked more like a child than the hero everyone thought him to be. How in the world he had been able to deceive so many for so long was beyond me.  
  
"Hercule, I think you need to remember who everyone thinks you are. You are the man who saved the world from Cell, and you should try to be more confident in that. On the television you give the impression of one who owns the world and thinks he is bigger and better than anyone else. In truth, this is to hide your own insecurities. Hercule, why are you so insecure? What is it about yourself you're so ashamed of?" I broke things down for him. Gotta get on the patient's level sometimes. I'm getting pretty used to it by now though.  
  
The face peering back at mine was completely blank. For a long moment I began to wonder if I had gone way too much over his head. Finally I decided I needed to break the point down to an even more approachable level when he decided to speak.  
  
"Those other fighters.they were so good.."  
  
Other fighters?.... Wait, Cell! I knew what he was talking about after all! "You mean the golden fighters, the ones who beat Cell?" I proposed.  
  
With a nod, it was confirmed. "Those fighters."  
  
"Well, Hercule, no wonder they were so good." I sighed. "Look, I'm going to tell you a little secret. Okay, so maybe it's not that little, but it is a secret just the same and I don't want you to go around repeating it or I'll tell everyone you weren't the one who beat Cell after all.  
  
Those fighters are also my patients, and yes, they are good, very good. Of course, there is a reason behind their success. Most of them are aliens. I know the green one was kinda obvious, but the golden fighters were as well, just different aliens. As far as humans go, you're actually very good, extremely strong."  
  
"I was supposed to beat Cell," Hercule said softly. Obviously this coming out of sorts was taking its toll on him.  
  
Nodding, I continued. "Yes, I understand. You got the glory, but since you didn't do the work, you're afraid one of them might come out and challenge you, demanding everything you received in due. Sound about right?"  
  
Hercule nodded.  
  
I smiled at him. "Well, cheer up because I have good news."  
  
"You do?" he looked in my eyes in surprise. "What do you mean? What is it?"  
  
"Basically, what I'm saying is that they don't want that kind of recognition. None of them want the attention. You are safe. None of them are going to challenge you on the subject," I explained. It was true. Vegeta could care less for human affections. Goku was dead. Gohan was struggling to fit in as a human, and Mirai Trunks had gone back to his future. Not a one of them were going to say anything. Who really cared who beat Cell (even if it was Gohan) as long as he was beaten?  
  
"Are you sure about that?" Hercule seemed somewhat skeptical.  
  
"I'm positive. I know all of them personally and none of them would really want what you have for doing the act." I was very confident in what I was telling him. Hopefully he would see that and take comfort as well.  
  
Hercule's face slowly began to change as he went back to his television persona, a goofy grin all his own plastered on his face. "The Great Hercule will be known as the savoir forever! And if the earth ever needs saving again, call Hercule! He will be there, and he will not fail!"  
  
All I could manage to do was shake my head sadly. Hercule was back, and somehow I was relieved. I mean, this Hercule was rather annoying and sometimes obnoxious, but the solemn Hercule of before was just plain creepy. Some people just needed to be the way they were. A humble Hercule is like an affectionate Vegeta. It's just not right.  
  
"Well, I'm glad I could help you. Now it's time for you to go. I have more than half a day left to waste, and you're in my way." I stood, hoping he would get the hint and just leave without incident. I get tired of having to almost practically toss patients out on their butts.  
  
Hercules face became honest again as he stood as well. "Thank you."  
  
I shrugged. "It's no big deal. That's why you came to see me. I am a therapist after all, and you did pay good money to receive help. I thought it was kinda ridiculous for you to sit here for an hour and have to pay when I could find something wrong and try to help fix it for you."  
  
He nodded his head and started for the door. As his hand reached the knob, he put on his game face and stepped out with all the false bravado everyone has come to expect from him.  
  
I watched him walk down the hall toward the door. When he was gone from sight, I closed and locked the door, climbed in bed and after pulling the sheet up to my chin, fell sound asleep until I smelled food. It was a good day. That's the life. Too bad everyday can't be like that one. Eat, play, help someone with a serious emotional struggle they're having, nap and eat. Yeah. That's the life alright..  
  
A/N: Well, what did you think? We all knew Hercule had issues, but was this what you were expecting? Did you think he'd be such an easy patient or that I'd have to toss him out like I did with Roshi? Let me know! REVIEW!!!! 


	12. Bulma and Goku

Disclaimer: Do you still not get it? sighs I don't have time for this. (walks away)

A/N: Yes, it's been a while. I know. Once again, hopefully this was worth the wait. As usual, Enjoy!!!

I always enjoyed sitting and watching the people at my community college walk around outside while I was inside the library, surrounded by glass and books. It was the most secluded place on campus to me and soon became "my" special spot. It's where I could sit and think, do class work or just sit and daydream. I got some of my best story ideas there and wrote many chapters with the sun's warming rays on my side with rows of books between me and the nearest people. I could sit and watch people pass through the tinted glass. I could watch nature, yet be shielded from its elements. It was a perfect place of peace and solitude.

After classes one day, I was thinking of going home, but passed the chance for a nap up in favor of going to my special spot for a much needed reprise while I wrote on my most current story. An idea had been bugging me for the past few classes.

As I sat in the shade of a faux tree and peered into the depths of my imaginative juices, I began to see the storyline unfold. Next it was time for the filing department to add in their say on how the events should be written. As usual, I had one word that just wouldn't come to me. Finally, a burst of inspiration I must blame on my muse, hit me, as did the tree my head. You see, when I got it, I really got it. I jumped in my chair and it rocked back slightly, causing me to hit the tree. After that it swayed back and forth, nearly falling on me!

With the tree was once again under control, I began to inspect my wounded pride. Looking about outside, I didn't see anyone who might have watched my little wrestling match. A quick scan of the library also confirmed no one had spied my gallant victory.

Dignity recovered, I rubbed my sore head. That tree, though fake, certainly wasn't soft. It hurt! And of course, as luck would have it, at that very moment my cell phone rang.

It took me a while to realize what the noise was. I normally didn't carry my cell phone with me anywhere, opting to leave it in the car on most occasions so that I couldn't be reached by people I didn't want reaching me.

Finally I found the phone in my purse and answered it only to be confronted by my mother's unhappy, "Where are you?!"

I blinked for a moment before saying, "Uh...at school..." hoping it was the right answer.

"Well," Mom started again, "You need to get yourself home, and I mean now. There are people here waiting to see you and I can't deal with teenaged nervous disorders for long. So get home. And now!"

Once again, I blinked. "Um...sure, Mom...."

Hanging up the phone, I put it back in my purse and headed for the door to go home. The entire drive home, I thought about who might be at my door and what they might want now. Each cow pasture brought a new line of thoughts. Once finally home, I gathered my belongings and headed for the door and my newest clients.

Boy, if only I had known what I was in for....

As I fumbled around, trying to balance my backpack full of books, my purse on my arm, the mail in one hand, my keys in the other and an empty bowl and mug from breakfast all while trying to open the door, the most curious thing happened. It opened of its own accord. Well, it seemed like it until I moved a few things out of my way to spy the small child in front of me with hair almost as big as he was.

He was a cute child; I had to give him that much. He had huge dark eyes, an adorable grin, a cute little button nose. Then you noticed the hair. Again. Seriously! The hair was massive!

"Um...hi," I started the conversation. "Are you the teenager my mother wanted me to come home quickly to counsel?"

The little boy shook his head cutely. In the oddest raspy little voice for a child, even more so than that _Home Improvement_ star Jonathan Taylor Thomas, he replied, "Uh uh. That's Bulma."

Just as he said it, I heard a shrill voice that could only belong to a teenaged high school drama queen.

"Goku!!! Where are you?!" It called out demandingly.

The child before me blinked. "Uh...I'm right here," he replied.

"Well get in here before you get in trouble again!" the feminine voice called again.

I lifted a brow as I looked back at the boy. "Is she always like this?" I asked softly.

The little boy, now known to me as Goku, shook his head. "No. She's just mad because she doesn't have a tail," he spoke confidentially.

I couldn't help but blink for a moment. "A tail?"

"Uh huh!" Goku grinned brightly as a slender furry, brown...appendage rose from behind him. I could only assume that was his tail.

"You-....You have a tail...." I couldn't stop myself from gawking. This child had a tail! How often is it that you meet a cute little kid with a freaking tail growing out of his butt?! Yeah, that's what I thought.

"Of course I have a tail. Don't you?" Goku asked simply.

"No, I don't have a tail, Goku," I answered him.

Goku smiled brightly as a child would in class if he had the right answer to a very difficult question and was very proud of himself. "Then you must be a girl! Because boys have tails," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Uh...well...whatever." I wasn't going to argue with him. In a sense...well, he was right. Just not how he thought he was. What an interesting situation I had found myself in.

"Mar? Is that you? Are you home?" my mother's voice beckoned me pleadingly from the kitchen. It was obvious she couldn't stand to be around the girl I had heard earlier and she expected me to come to the rescue.

"Yes, Mom. I'm coming." As I stepped around the boy, I sighed. This was going to be a long one.

As I rounded the corner to the kitchen, my attention was immediately grabbed by a head of blue hair. I blinked twice. "Um...hey Bulma. You're appointment isn't until next week," I addressed the girl sitting with my mother.

"Next week! Do you think I could survive until next week?! You've met him! Could you?!" she screamed, looking at something beside my pants' leg. As I turned, I saw Goku almost hiding behind me, looking very confounded. He obviously had no idea what he had done to set her off so. Then again, it never has taken much to set Bulma off, and I would know. I've been her therapist for a good many years. Crazy broad.

Anyway, I once again sighed and shook my head. "Alright. Bulma, you and I can go back to my room for a little chat." I turned to Goku. "And you. You can stay in the living room and play with my little brother. Just be sure to be nice. Okay?"

Goku grinned brightly at the suggestion of play. "Alright!" he chirped enthusiastically, bounding off to find my spawn of Satan of a brother.

"Alright. Let's get started." I headed back to my room, not even bothering to make sure Bulma was following me or not. When I reached my room, I dumped my things on the floor and walking over to my self of notebooks, I grabbed the most recent one for Bulma, volume six.

As I turned around to check on the status of my patient's progress down the hallway, I was startled by her presence on my bed, looking as comfortable as a queen on a silk covered chaise lounge. "Are you ready to get started?" I opened the floor for discussion.

With a curt nod of her head, Bulma replied. "That boy is driving me nuts!"

"Umhm...I've noticed that. Now, Bulma," I put on my best therapist voice, hoping it would keep this highly excitable youth under control, "Why don't you start by telling me exactly what this is all about? What is it the boy, Goku, is doing that bothers you so much?"

Bulma gave a long sigh before taking a deep breath to give me the 411. "Well, you see, I met him in the jungle. He was alone and without anyone. His grandfather must have died. He was really strong and able to save me from the native inhabitants."

"That doesn't sound so bad," I interjected. How horrible could it be to be around a small boy who could fight and protect you? It sounded like a pretty good deal to me. Then again, Bulma always was a strange one.

Bulma's face screwed up into one of great distaste. "Well, if you would shut up and let me tell my story, you might find out why!"

I sighed. "Alright, Bulma. Tell me your story. Help me understand your pain." If Bulma noticed my sarcasm she certainly didn't show it as her bi-polar personality switched back into her "I'm a princess being adored" mode with the unfolding of her meeting of Goku.

"Well, it wasn't until that night when I was giving him what can only be assumed as his first bath, being a little heathen and all, that I found out his tail was...well, real. Until that point I had thought it was a part of his clothing or something. I mean, people just don't have tails. Or they don't where I come from at least," she spilled in one breath. "Well, after my initial freak out about it, he asked me if I had one. I told him no, of course, and he's been giving me heck ever since. I don't know what's wrong the boy. He's even gone so far as to spy on me while I was bathing! Can you imagine?!" I thought back to the times I've had my brother sitting outside the bathroom door just talking up a storm to me while I was trying to have a relaxing bath, and trust me, I could believe her. Goku just sounded like a normal little boy to me.

"Bulma, I honestly think Goku doesn't realize most people don't have tails. You said he lived with his grandfather you can only assume is dead, right? Well, if that's the case, it could well be a genetic mishap his family carries. You shouldn't make him feel bad by tearing him down about not knowing most people don't have a tail. When he begins to truly understand that, he's going to feel like a freak. You'll need to be there to help him adjust, as his accepting friend, no matter what he looks like.

"As for him driving you nuts: ignore him! Sheesh! I live with a little boy. Trust me, I know what they're like! They're horrible! They make noise all the time, they're constantly into messes, and they speak thoughtlessly. You just have to get over it. You're the adult in this situation, and you have to know the difference in the times to say something to him and to let things go.

"He keeps harping on the tail thing, because he knows it gets you riled up. To him, it's a game. If you ignore him, he'll eventually get bored with it and stop. Got it?" I laid down my "professional" opinion.

Bulma simply frowned for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. "Well, I suppose I could do that. Are you sure he'll get bored and leave me alone?"

I nodded. "Without a doubt. Hey, have I ever steered you wrong before?" Bulma shook her head. "Alright then," I smiled warmly. "Listen to me. There's a reason I'm the therapist, and you are my patient. Alright?"

"Alright." She seemed really calm by this point. Of course, this was exactly how all our sessions together went. She came in stark raving mad and by the time she left my office, she was as gentle as a pussy cat. I must be doing something right.

As I continued to write down notes from our conference, I heard a loud bang from the living room and my mother yelling for me, "MAR!!!!" I couldn't help but wince at the tone. Putting down my notebook and pencil, I headed back for the living room to see what was happening.

As I entered the boys' domain, I noticed two things immediately. One: the boys seemed to be unharmed. Two: I couldn't say the same for the room. Those sweet and innocent, endearing angels had wrecked the entire living room.

"You," my mother pointed at Bulma and I, "handle this! I'm going outside!" She stormed out of the room, slamming the backdoor on her way.

I blinked around the room at the mess and took a long calming sigh before approaching the problem. When I looked down, I saw two sweet, angelic faces with huge puppy eyes gazing back at me. Why is it the cutest ones are always the demons in disguise?

"Drury," I started, speaking to my baby brother. "What have you and Goku been doing in here?" I was trying my best to remain calm despite the shattered glass chandelier in the middle of the room.

"Goku and I had a race, and I won! We sparred too. And I taught Goku to play football!" Drury proudly proclaimed to me with a huge grin going from ear to ear.

I took another deep breath. "Drury, how did this room get to be such a mess?"

Drury shrugged. "He throws hard?"

This obviously was not going to get us anywhere. "Alright boys. You made this mess, and you're going to clean it up." They simply looked at me until I yelled, "NOW!!!!" The boys jumped into the air, startled, and began to rapidly repair most of the damage to the room. 

By the time they were done, the only things left were the shards of glass on the floor, the pictures hanging haphazardly on the walls and floor and particles of plaster from the ceiling peppering everything.

I looked to Bulma. "I think it's time the two of you hit the road. I need to get the rest of this mess cleaned up. Alright?"

Bulma nodded to me. "Sure. Thanks for all the help." She smiled at me, happy I had been the one to deal with the mess and not her.

Goku looked up at me with those huge brown eyes of his. "Did you help her deal with not having a tail?"

I couldn't help myself. I chuckled at the child's innocence. "Yes, I think I did. But you know what? I think you should lay off her about not having a tail." I lowered my voice dramatically. "I think she's a little sore about it. Alright?"

Goku smiled at me, happy to be included in this "secret". "Alright! I sure will!"

With that, the almost happy pair departed from my almost happy home, leaving me to clean up the mess. And what a mess it had been....

A/N: Gunlord, I haven't forgotten or ignored your request; it's the next session on my list.

I have a few more sessions ready to go before I have to start scrounging about for new ideas. That means now is the perfect time for suggestions from all my wonderful readers, you guys! If you have a favorite character in need of a psychiatric evaluation and opinion, let me know what you've got in mind. I might be able to find a use for it or at least be inspired by it. Oh! And don't forget to REVIEW!!!!!!!!!


	13. Radditz

Disclaimer: In the many, many months since I last updated this fic, I have failed to procure the rights to DBZ, Cartoon Network or even _Codename: Kids Nextdoor_. I have however, recently been granted the rights to myself. Yea! (_Does the infamous Happy Dance.)_

A/N: I know it has been forever since I updated this fic. Hopefully, I haven't lost all my reviewers. As promised, I wrote this fic for you, Gunlord. I hope you all really, really enjoy this one. So far, it is my favorite of my sessions.

If ever asked to tell what I consider one of my most bizarre and most touching sessions to date, I would be forced to tell about the time I met a very sweet warrior with a heart of gold, though no one would have ever believed that heart existed.

This session begins on a Saturday morning as I was watching Cartoon Network, eating a bowl of cereal and savoring a few moments alone in peace. During a commercial break from _Codename: Kids Nextdoor_, the telephone rang, and rang and…rang. Finally, I gave up all hope of my brothers answering and got up to answer it myself. On the other end, I heard a very loud, thundering voice with the most unusual accent say, "She answered! Now you can talk to her!"

I frowned. "If this is a prank call, I swear, I will call the police! I am not going to even begin to play with you! I am sick and tired of people calling me like this!"

"No," came a deep reply. "This isn't a prank call. Could I speak with a Miss Mar?"

"Um…yeah. This is her speaking," I replied. Somehow, the voice had caught my attention. He seemed nice enough, in a very strong kind of way. You know how you can sometimes get feelings about strangers when you talk to them on the phone? Well, that's how it was with this guy.

"Hi, my name is Radditz. We've never met before, but I've heard a lot about you and seen your work," expunged the voice on the other end of the line, now known as Radditz.

"My work?" I questioned. What could he be talking about? Was it my writing, my therapy sessions or something completely different I was unaware of? If he has been looking at my paintings or drawings, I swear….

"Yes, your therapy sessions. I've seen how good you are and was encouraged to speak with you," Mr. Radditz continued.

"So, you're wanting to set up an appointment?" I questioned.

"Yes," came the decisive answer. Of course, I wanted to watch my show, so I quickly looked over my appointment book and jotted down a time and place to meet this guy at some place called Mount Five Elements and went back to my programming, not to think about my appointment again until the day had arrived.

Notebook in the seat beside me, I drove and drove what seemed like forever, following the directions Radditz had given me. Let me tell you, Frying Pan Plain goes on for what seems like forever. Thank goodness in recent years, a road was put in to help the spirits on their journeys to and from Otherworld.

As I neared my destination, I saw a large wall with a gigantic gate forming in the distance. Behind both of these was a mountain covered in fog. That must be my destination, Mount Five Elements. That's where Radditz was going to meet me, somewhere in the fog.

Nearing the gate, I noticed monsters three times larger than a man engraved on the gate. The gate itself must have been as tall as the Empire State Building! From under its shadow, I couldn't even see the mountain!

Slowing my car, preparing to stop at the gate, I noticed a person standing beside it. Parking my car beside the road, the old man approached me.

"Hello. Are you the therapist I'm supposed to be waiting for?" the older gentleman asked.

"Unless you're expecting more than one, that would be me," I answered smartly.

"Oh goody! I can get back to Tajoro and the furnace," he sighed happily. "Annin."

I lifted a brow. "Um…okay. But how do I get through this gate?"

"That's easy!" Turning to the gate, the old man said some kind of incantation, and that gate slowly swung open. "Follow me!" He started down a twisting path with spikes on either side. Shrugging to myself, I simply followed.

"So, do you have a name or something?" I tried to make conversation as the man stood for a moment, apparently waiting on something.

"Oh, yes. My name is Gohan. Most people call me Grandpa Gohan," Gohan said without sparing me a glance. "Now where is that danged carpet anyway?"

"Grandpa Gohan…" I mused to myself. Could this really be the man responsible for "rearing" Goku? And if so, would it break his heart to know how tremendously he had failed? "Well, my name is Mar." I smiled brightly.

"Nice to meet you." Gohan looked around for another moment before yelling, "Carpet! Get over here now! I don't have time for this!"

To my amazement, a carpet flew down out of the sky. I have seen some odd things, a Namek and cabbit being two of the oddest, but this would definitely rank right up there with the flying nimbus.

"Well, come on," Gohan climbed onto the carpet. Once I was on board, the carpet began sailing down the path between the spikes, barely about the path itself.

It wasn't long before we encountered a hole in the path with spikes below. Thankfully, the carpet continued soaring without a moment's hesitation, at least until we saw the samurai troops ahead.

Slamming on the breaks, the carpet almost threw me off, if it hadn't been for Gohan sitting in front of me, that is.

"No one shall pass," the leader of the samurai warriors said in a deep, dead tone that made a shiver of goose bumps crawl down my spine. These guys were creepy!

"Don't worry about it guys. The girl's with me, and you know I'm dead. She has special permission from King Yemma to pass through here." Gohan pulled out a piece of paper and showed it to the samurai.

After taking a moment to eye the paper, the samurai replied in a disappointed tone, "Alright then…You may pass." And with that, they all faded away into thin air, leaving the path wide open for us to continue on our not-so-merry way.

"Who were those guys?" I questioned as we continued on our little journey.

"Oh, they're just here to protect the path from the living. The last thing we want around here are tourists." Gohan laughed merrily.

Eventually, we came upon an entrance leading away from my destination, the top of the mountain. "Well, this is my stop," Gohan said, climbing off the carpet. "I have to get back to the furnace and Tajoro. To get to your meeting, you will need to continue on the carpet. He knows where to go," Gohan directed.

"Thank you. I appreciate your help. Do I need that paper or anything? I mean, what if there are more samurai ahead?" I questioned before he could leave. The last thing I wanted was to run into a battalion of armed samurai, all determined to kill me, and not have the necessary paperwork to make them back down.

"Well," Gohan reached inside his pocket. "I don't think you'll need this, but I suppose it would be better to be safe than sorry." He handed me the paper, which I promptly placed inside Radditz's spiral for the session. This was turning out to be the most work I had ever done to help someone. I couldn't help wondering if maybe I was under charging. I would definitely have to think about upping my rates.

"It should be pretty easy from here. Take care of yourself," Gohan said, wishing me a fond farewell.

"Same to you, Gohan. And I'll be sure to tell the family you said hi." I grinned widely as I nudged the carpet on down the path, leaving a very confused Gohan behind.

After we left Gohan's exit, the path became an uphill one. Needless to say, I was exceedingly glad I did not have to walk this part of the path. Thank you for the carpet, Gohan!

The higher we got, the thicker the fog became until I could barely see my hand in front of my face. All around were softly whispered voices and I had the distinct feeling I was most definitely not alone. Shivering, I had huddled down on the carpet with my arms around myself. The sooner I got to Radditz, the better.

At the top of Mount Five Elements the air began warming as the fog thinned, revealing a Japanese style building at the top and a large, wild-haired man wearing a halo sitting on the steps. As I approached, the man stood and walked over to greet me, going so far as to offer me a hand off the carpet.

"You know, you're the first living person I've seen in years," the guy chuckled. "The name's Radditz."

"Hi, it's nice to finally meet you. It's been a rather…interesting journey to get here. I…um…what's up with the halo?" I questioned, staring at the golden ring around my next project's head. As rude as it was to ask such a question so straight forwardly, I knew if I didn't ask now, I would spend the entire session staring instead of listening, rendering my services completely useless.

Radditz laughed lightly. "Well, I am dead. Piccolo killed me. So, I got a halo and placement in the Home For Infinite Losers."

"Alright," I nodded. "So, you called me here for a therapy session, correct?"

"That's right," Radditz smiled. "And I really appreciate you coming all this way. I know it wasn't an easy journey. Trust me, you will be compensated. King Yemma said he would pay whatever the price to get me fixed. Something to the effect that I was making HFIL even more depressing or something." He shrugged lightly.

"Well, I guess we could get started." I pulled out my notebook and sat down on the steps with Radditz. "So, why exactly was I contacted?"

"Well, I guess you could say I'm having difficulty wrestling with a foreign emotion. The word I've heard used to describe it is…guilt," Radditz confided.

I lifted a brow. "Guilt?" I wrote that in my notebook and put a question mark with it. "Guilt over what?"

"Well," Radditz began, looking at his feet. "I guess it has to do with how I died. The day I met my brother…."

I nodded. "Alright. So, what exactly about that day do you have regrets about?"

"I guess with the way everything turned out." Radditz's brow was furrowed in thought.

"Okay. That is certainly a start. Now, why don't you try being a little more specific? Try telling me about what happened in your own words. If you come to a part that you regret, we can talk about that particular part. Sound like a plan to you?" I laid down the foundation for the rest of our time together.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Radditz finally looked at me again.

"Well, it took years of digging, but I had finally found my younger brother, Kakarot. When I discovered he had landed on Earth, I made sure to destroy all the evidence so Frieza could never find him, including all those present, and after a long talk with Vegeta, I received permission to travel to Earth in search of my brother.

"When I arrived, I intended to get Kakarot off the planet. I knew his programming wasn't working by the fact that the planet still existed and he wasn't on a random rampage throughout the galaxy. I wanted to know why. I wanted to…well, I wanted to see if there was some way to reverse our killing program, and…" Radditz sighed longly, "get to know…him.

"That fool Piccolo got in the way for a few moments, as did several humans. Honestly, I didn't want Kakarot to think I was weak, just in case there was a part of his programming still intact, he is a Saiyan after all," Radditz paused for a moment.

"Let me get this straight. You came to Earth so you could 'get to know' your brother? You didn't come here to kill everyone? That's the usual reason. That's what I was told was your reasoning," I had to add.

"Yes, I did come here to meet Kakarot," Radditz agreed, "and to see if whatever made him so special could help Vegeta, Napa and myself free ourselves from Frieza's hold."

"And what about when you kidnapped Gohan? That doesn't exactly scream 'I miss and want to get to know you'," I questioned.

"That," Radditz sighed. "That was a rash move. I was trying to convince Kakarot to join me, leave with me. I wanted to protect him. I was even willing to help hide his family, even though I would have to do so without Vegeta's knowledge. When Kakarot refused to come with me, I did the only thing I could think to get him on my side; I took his bratty little son.

"I didn't mean for things get so serious. I never intended for anyone to get hurt, much less die. I guess that's what I'm feeling this 'guilt' over," Radditz began working on his breakthrough.

"I guess it's understandable that you would feel regret over that. It was a horrible thing to do: to kidnap someone's child. I would feel regret over that too." Radditz nodded at my words. "It was a horrible thing to do. But," Radditz perked up as I continued, hoping for a positive twist, "the fact that you feel regret is a major step forward. It means you're not heartless, close but not quite. It also means you have the ability to change and to better yourself."

"What should I do? I can't go back and change the past, even though I would give anything to do that," Radditz sincerely wanted help. This was amazing! Who knew villains had hearts! Heck, most of my "good" patients didn't actually want help!

"As much as I hate to say it, there isn't anything you can do to change it," I continued. "What's done is done. It's in the past; over. The only thing you can do is try to get your brother an apology. And you have to stop living in the past. So, instead of driving yourself crazy with regret over the past, focus on the future. Make the person you are better. Who knows, maybe one day you'll be given a chance to earn a spot out of the HFIL, through some selfless act while facing an immeasurable threat."

Radditz nodded. "I…I guess you're right. I guess I can do that. I can work on improving myself so that if I ever see Kakarot, we can spend time together, get that closeness I came to Earth looking for."

"That's the spirit!" I smiled brightly, glad my advice had hit home.

Smiling, Radditz looked into my eyes, his obsidian orbs large and begging. "You have done so much for me already, but I have one more request to make." The puppy eyes kicked up a notch.

I found myself a little afraid. "Um…what is it?"

"Could you please give Goku that message?" Radditz nearly begged out-right.

"I suppose I could," I gave Radditz an odd look. "Why do you need me to?"

"Well, good warriors can get their messages to the living through a Kai. Most spirits can get messages across by visiting on the date of their death or another special occasion. I'm not allowed to leave. I'm considered too big of a threat. I need an intermediary. Please, take my message." Radditz still had a begging look in his eyes.

I looked Radditz up and down for a moment before nodding. "Sure, I'll take a message. What do you want me to tell him?"

Radditz smiled brightly. "Thank you. I just want him to know this isn't how I intended things to go and while I know it's asking far too much, I only hope one day he can forgive me. I would really like to spend time and get to know him one day. That's all," he ended.

Returning his smile, I nodded. "Alright. I think I can handle that." I jotted the idea down in the notebook so I could remember to tell Goku the next time I spoke with him. Chi-Chi was not going to be pleased.

"Well, I'll be right back with your money," Radditz smiled as he stood and offering me his hand, helped me to my feet before turning and entering the building behind us.

"I'll just wait right here." I walked over to inspect my flying rug more thoroughly.

A few moments later Radditz returned. "Here's your fee." He handed me a check that would cover everything I had gone through. I was quite pleased. "King Yemma added a little extra in thanks. He sends his deepest gratitude."

"It's no big deal. That's my job. It's what I do," I smiled back at him. "Tell King Yemma he's more than welcome. I also hope this helps you. Good luck with turning over a new leaf."

Radditz nodded. "Alright. Thank you. I…well, have a nice ride back."

It was my turn to nod before Radditz offered me his help getting back on my rug. "No offense, but hopefully I won't be back. But if you ever do need me, you know how to get in touch with me."

"I do," Radditz nodded with a pleasant smile. "Good-bye."

"Good-bye." And then I left for a pleasant ride back home to write the results of my session in Radditz's book, give Goku his message and grab a bite to eat before going to bed. By the way, did I ever give Goku that message? Well, let me think…um…well. Crap! I knew there was something I was forgetting! Catch ya'll later!

A/N: So? (_presses ear to computer screen then frowns)_ Well, that's not working. (_scratches head Son-style)_ I wonder….(_clicks link to reviews)_ Ah-ha! That's what you had to say! (Hint, hint, hint!)

Coming soon! Launch!


	14. Launch

Disclaimer: If you haven't guessed, I still don't own anything! Leave me alone!

hc – (runs away in terror before freezing) Wait a minute! I do own Snuggle Buddy! And that means you can't use him without asking me first! HA!

A/N: I can't believe I have been updating lately! I know you can't either! Anyway, I'm hoping I can continue to write like this in the future. Now, Enjoy!

This particular story began on the first cold day of the year. I had been at school all day, freezing my tush off. So, naturally, home found me under my covers snuggling with Snuggle Buddy.

I guess I should explain who Snuggle Buddy is. Snuggle Buddy just so happens to be two old pillows put together inside a DBZ shirt with my all time favorite picture on the back! It's the one where Gohan, Goku and Goten are all shooting ki-blasts at the same time. sigh I love that shirt. I guess since I can't have the real thing….

Ah, nothing better on a cold day after being at school than snuggling in the warmth provided by one's bed and pillows. A perfect ending to a not-so-perfect day. Of course, as luck would have it - or Murphy if you prefer - a knock on my bedroom door drug me from the warm confines of my cocoon. I hate it when people disturb me from my snuggling!

Dragging myself to answer, pulling on an extra robe as I went for extra warmth, I opened the door. "Yes?" I was not a happy camper. I had been warm!

I was met by a pair of bright blue eyes framed by long dark hair and the sweetest voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were busy. I can come back later if that's better?"

I shook my head, already guessing why this damsel was calling. "No, come on in and have a seat." I stepped aside and let her enter the room, moving to sit beside her on the bed. "Now, what is it I can do for you?"

The young lady smiled brightly. "My name is Launch. I'm a friend of Bulma's." I couldn't help but wince at the mention of Bulma. We all know she has issues, I most of all being her therapist. Now, I was dealing with someone she must have referred. Yikes. What a scary proposition.

"Yes, I know Bulma. She's a patient of mine," I responded with a smile. I couldn't let this young woman know what I thought of her friend lest she go berserk as many of the women I counsel tend to do. "So, Miss...Launch was it? What can I do for you?"

"Well...," she started reluctantly. "You see, I have this little problem..."

"You know, I can't help you unless you open up to me and tell me what's the matter. Okay?" I prodded her gently.

Launch nodded slowly, "Okay."

I smiled encouragingly at her. "Alright. Now, tell me what's wrong."

"Well, you see...there's this...guy," Launch began her problem. You have to love man problems. They're always the most interesting, most bizarre and the hardest to resolve. "He's really great. He's cute, nice, a great martial artist," she sighed dreamily.

"He sounds, um...wonderful," I responded. "So, what's the problem? He seems to be a great guy."

"The problem is," Launch took a deep breath, "he doesn't even seem to notice I exist!" She began tearing up, her pretty brown eyes threatening to overflow.

"There, there, Launch. It's alright." I handed her a tissue to dry her eyes. "It's not that bad." I paused at an odd noise. Realizing it was only the heater kicking on, I continued, "Maybe if he doesn't notice you, he's just not the right man for you. I'm sure you'll find the perfect guy out there somewhere. You just have to give Mr. Perfect a little while to find you is all."

With the tissue in hand, Launch sniffed twice as if she were sniffling because of need to cry. The sniffs then became more pronounced as she closed her eyes tight and gave a very powerful, yet high pitched sneeze.

Right before my very eyes, the sweet, loving dark-haired girl I had been speaking with suddenly became a green-eyed, blonde babe whose eyes narrowed on me.

"Were you talking to me! What's this about finding another man! Huh!" the new girl roared at me aggressively. "I want Tien and I'm going to have him one way or another and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me!"

I found myself unable to do anything but blink. I was thoroughly lost and confused. "Um...Launch...maybe if you could calm down and discuss this rationally..." I knew I had said something wrong when her eyes flew open wide. Yeah, I had certainly pissed her off even more.

"Discuss this rationally! How would you like to discuss this rationally with my friend here!" Launch then pulled a very large fully automatic gun from seemingly nowhere.

Yes, I was terrified. Anyone who ever tells you they've looked down the barrel of a high caliber fully automatic weapon and wasn't terrified is lying!

"Launch...now...there's no need to get violent. I'm only here to help you..." I coaxed, trying to calm her down.

As my patient began placing her hands in the correct position to pull the trigger and shoot me dead, she once again closed her eyes and took several deep sniffles before sneezing yet again. When Launch opened her eyes again, they were once again dark brown orbs, and she seemed very lost and confused, quickly putting away the weapon.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't do anything bad, did I?" Launch seemed genuinely upset by the fact that she had been holding a giant gun to my head.

All I could do was shake my head, my eyes wide in fright, noticing for the first time that the heater was off and the smell heaters make on their first use of the year was diminishing.

My brain quickly began putting two and two together. This girl was very "special" indeed. It would seem the dust from the heater had caused her to sneeze when it came on and to sneeze again when it kicked off. Every time Launch sneezed, she became her alter ego: kill-crazed Launch. Very interesting dilemma indeed; and not one I was willing to deal with in the future. This was Launch's first session with me in person, and if I had anything to say about it, her last as well. From now on, we could talk over the phone, or better yet, not at all!

"I didn't mean to scare you," coming from my patient brought me back from my thoughts. "Do you have any advice at all?" Her eyes were hopeful.

I nodded slowly. "Yes, I think I do have some advice for you with your Tien situation. I think that you should just be...um...yourself," I coughed on the word. "He's bound to notice you, and if he doesn't, then it's just his loss. I'm sure you could find tons of really great men who'd love to be with you. Don't worry if one man seems to turn you down. Alright?"

Launch smiled brightly and nodded, reaching over and hugging me tightly. "Oh thank you so much! You have been very helpful!" She jumped up happily and headed for the door. "You have been a great help!" And with that, she was gone, closing the door behind her.

Let me tell you, I had never in my life ever dealt with someone as crazy as Launch. I knew I never wanted to deal with that kind of craziness again. So, I walked over to my bookcase, picked up a new notebook and with my black marker, put her name on the front with a HUGE "X" through it.

So ends my first, and last, session with the Launches.

A/N: Yes, I know it was crap. Or was it? I do believe that is up to you to decide that. And let me know! I love reviews! You must review!

Also, I am running short on ideas, so that means that by the time I have the next session completed, I will be looking back over emails and reviews to outline any sessions to follow. So, if you want more sessions, help me out! Thanks a mil!


	15. Frieza

Disclaimer: I never have and never will own anything which will bring me money. Yep, it sucks to be me. --

A/N: I know it has been forever since I updated, so I hope everyone gives a big thanks to Jadedbest. She's the one who got me to writing again and after her harassments earlier today about Frieza, I had to go ahead and post this chapter. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing.

It was just another day. After spending most of my day attending calculus, biology and chemistry classes, I was pretty beat with a head so full of derivatives, taxonomy and nomenclatures I thought it would surely burst. My salvation – an empty house when I arrived at home. Apparently Mom had taken my baby brother to the doctor or something.

With a sigh of relief, I killed my Altima's engine and drug myself into the house, stopping only to grab a soda and bag of Gardetto's on the way to my bedroom. Once inside my room, I double checked the lock, on my door, tossed my backpack on the floor at my feet and headed straight for bed. There is only one cure for the type of tension headache my classes had given me – a nap. That was when I noticed the note on my pillow. Frowning, I crossed the room and picked up the note to read it.

"Your services are required for one of our residents, Frieza. Thank you, HFIL Staff."

Lifting a brow, I double checked the time and date and wrote them in the new planner I was now attempting to use to keep track of my hectic life. Afterward, I changed back into my pajamas and snuggled beneath the blankets to try and forget the day had ever happened.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

On the date of my planned session, I made my way to the Home For Infinite Losers, following the same directions I had been given for my session with Radditz. Eventually, I found myself in the bowels of HFIL and even found a guard to assist me in finding this Frieza person.

"Instead of us both wandering around all day, why don't you wait here while I locate Frieza?" the guard assisting me suggested, motioning toward two chairs which would suit my business perfectly.

As I sat, pondering how I had once again found myself in HFIL, a raspy voice spoke from behind me. "Are you the therapist I'm supposed to see today?"

Turning to greet this new person, I caught sight of a short alien creature of white and purple studying me closely. "If you are Frieza, then yes, I am here to visit with you." I gave a warm smile as Frieza continued to study me with cold, calculating eyes.

"At least King Yemma got something right," Frieza commented bitterly and took a seat in the nearly empty chair.

Finding this as good of a place as any to start, I began with another question. "Does King Yemma make mistakes often?"

"He's the one who put me down here!" Frieza spat. "Of course he makes mistakes!"

Isn't it always grand when a true master of villainy feels their eternal spiritual punishment for destroying and enslaving entire races is unjust? "From what I have seen, almost everyone goes to HFIL when the die. So, it's not necessarily a punishment," I commented, hoping to uncover the reason I was sent for.

"I am a hero!" Frieza exclaimed. "I don't deserve to be here with the commoners or villains like Cell! I deserve to be in the resting place of heroes, high above this forsaken plane!"

Okay, time to try a new angle. After quickly jotting "Hero?" in my notebook for Frieza, I started again. "I have been told it is super difficult to qualify for a hero's afterlife, and even if you do, it's next to impossible to get there. What do you believe makes you a candidate?"

"Have you not heard of all the races I helped?!" the alien exclaimed, flabbergasted.

I lifted a brow at Frieza's statement before deciding to say almost exactly what I was thinking. "Most people don't consider conquering, enslaving and/or destroying other sentient civilizations exactly generous, humane or helpful. Generally, it's kinda viewed as the utmost epitome of evil."

Expecting the worst, I was pleasantly surprised when Frieza gasped in shock. "Is that all you were told?!"

"Um, yeah. That was pretty much it."

"You didn't get even half the story," the vile creature before me huffed.

"Oh? Then why don't you tell me the other half," I suggested. So what if I was curious? You are too or you wouldn't have read this last sentence. Don't judge me!

"You see, growing up, I always wondered why everyone was always at war," Frieza began to elaborate. "I saw many others starving to death or wallowing in cess pools of ignorance, disease and poverty until they either became extinct or were destroyed.

"I was never comfortable with the way things were, and I wanted to see a change, a revolution. But what can one family really do in a universe so full of chaos, death and destruction? Well, my father certainly had a plan and my brother and I joined him in his noble quest for a universal utopian society." Frieza sighed heavily as if the telling of his younger years had been a strenuous task he was glad to have completed.

Fearing I would not like what I was about to hear, I prompted the spirit to continue anyway. "What exactly was your father's plan?"

With a sad smile, Frieza's mind traveled to the past to better tell his story. "Father's plan was to conquer our neighbors. They obviously had no idea how to live happily and peacefully since they had all been at war with one another for centuries. We knew better than they did. Of course, no one would listen to our words, so we were left with no choice but to conquer them in order to make them behave so they could be happy.

"Unfortunately, every time we got one planet's chaos contained, we found ten more worse off." With a look or pure emotional anguish, Frieza sighed heavily. "Eventually, it became more than just my family could control, so we used the best fighters of those we had conquered to aid us in our venture."

Surprisingly, I was completely able to understand this skewed perspective. I certainly did not agree. But I did understand. Maybe I have been doing this therapy thing for too long.

"What happened next?" Where did things go wrong?" I coerced Frieza into continuing his tale of woe.

"Everything went perfectly well until I came across Planet Vegeta," Frieza once again gave a smile. "They were the answer to all our troubles of not having enough manpower to seize control of so many planets in need. Father was so proud of my discovery.

"Then that over grown monkey, Bardock, showed me a Saiyan's true potential strength, and more importantly, how quickly and easily a Saiyan can forget his savior. So, for the sake of the rest of the universe, I destroyed Planet Vegeta.

"Of course, Prince Vegeta and that two-bit sidekick of his, Kakarot, were a bit upset about the destruction if their birth planet. They simply couldn't see the big picture. It wasn't fair! After everything I had done for the peoples of the universe, a low-class monkey killed me. And here I am and unjustly, I might add," Frieza ended his tale.

Unsure of what to say, I continued jotting notes for another moment before speaking. "That was a very interesting tale," I stammered, grasping for words. "Basically, you set out to establish universal peace and ended up in HFIL for it?"

"Yes!" Frieza exclaimed. "That is exactly right!"

I chewed my lip for a moment to buy myself time to think. "Well, I must give you credit for having good intentions since you had the best of desires for everyone at heart. What I do fault you for, however is you and your family's execution of your wonderful plans. Generally, it's almost always a bad idea to begin slaughtering people for any reason."

I don't deserve to be here," Frieza almost pleaded. "I'm not evil. All I wanted to do is help. They won't listen to me, but maybe King Yemma will listen to you and give me a chance at a hero's afterlife."

Frowning for a moment, I finally nodded my head. "I won't promise any results, but I will send a letter to King Yemma, telling him what all I discovered today during our time together."

"You'll do that for me?" I almost looked like tears were forming in the tyrant's eyes.

"A letter is no big deal," I explained in an effort to stop the alien's emotional outburst before it truly began. To be honest, I didn't want to be here in the HFIL for any longer of a time than I must. Frieza had mentioned Cell among other villains down there. The HFIL was not a place for me.

Nodding with delight, Frieza rose and smiled. "Thank you for your assistance."

I shrugged. "No big. HFIL pays for these little chats I have with you guys. It all works out for all of us involved."

"I suppose so. Thank you again, and hopefully if we talk again, it will be in better surroundings."

Rising to leave, I nodded. "Maybe."

At that time, two HFIL workers appeared and began escorting Frieza away from me. I simply watched my latest patient walk away before writing, "Remember to write letter to Yemma" in my notebook before leaving for home and bed.

I guess it just goes to show: you really can't judge a book by its cover, or a villain by their deeds either.

A/N: As always, please leave a review. Also, I have been toying with a few ideas for some sessions, but I don't really have any clue what else to write on. So, as always, suggestions are more than welcomed. If you have a favorite character who has some a serious mental problem you wish I would address, just let me know, and I'll see what I can do to assist them in their recovery.


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